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“ Such terms as Nature, Law, Freedom, Necessity, Body, Substance 
Matter, Church, State, Revelation, Inspiration, Knowledge, Belief, are 
tossed about in the wars of words as if everybody knew what they meant, 
and as if every body used them exactly in the same sense; whereas most 
people, and particularly those who represent public opinion, pick up these 
complicated terms as children, beginning with the vaguest conceptions, 
adding to them from time to time, perhaps correcting likewise at hap¬ 
hazard some of their involuntary errors, but never taking stock, never 
either enquiring into the history of the term which they handle so freely, 
or realising the fulness of their meaning according to the strict rules of 
logical definition.”— Max Midler's Lectures, Second Series, p. 526. 

“ That each word has derived from a long ancestry its present con¬ 
stitution, and that a complete understanding of it is in many cases to be 
obtained only by studying ancestral words, is a familiar truth ; though a 
truth not duly remembered in philosophical discussions. But that the 
constitution of each word has, in the course of its descent, been ever 
undergoing modifications fitting it to co-operate with environing words, 
is a correlative truth which is not familiar. Yet the second factor is no less 
important than the first. Words have become specialized and defined only 
in the course of those actions which they have joined one another in per¬ 
forming. The meaning of every one has been gradually restricted by the 
growth of others, which have trenched upon the sphere which it once 
occupied alone. Every one has come to have special classes of words, and 
often special groups of those classes with which it habitually acts. And 
in many cases, adjustable appendages are formed by which it articulates 
with the other words that give to it its power, direction, and effectiveness- 
Otherwise expressing these truths, we may say that each word has 
both an intrinsic connotation and an extrinsic connotation. It does not 
simply imply, with various degrees of distinctness, the meanings of an¬ 
cestral words ; but it implies also the meanings of co-existing words, 
which limit and extend and individualize its meaning, and in the absence 
of which it is meaningless.”— Herbert Spencer's Principles of Psychology , 
v. 2; part 7; chap. 3. 





Ml. 


SPIRIT AND MIND POLARITY, 


OR 


THE DISENTANGLEMENT 


oi 


IDEAS 


BY 


ARTHUR YOUNG. 


“ Marshal thy notions into a handsome method. One will carry twice 
as much weight trussed and packed up in bundles, than when it lies unto¬ 
ward, flapping and hanging about his shoulders.— Pleasures of Literature 
—Lond., 1851. 

All Meditation remains incomplete, when it produces no Image, and all 
Contemplation becomes confused apart from such guidance. They are 
therefore, the one and the other, characterised in conformity with the 
images, of which the active or passive consideration constitutes the 
principle domain of the Heart-directed Mind.— Translated from Comte’s 
Synthese Subjective , p. 33. 


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FIRST PART’. 


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LONDON: 

HOULSTON & SONS, 7, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS. 
WORTHING : 

W. PAINE, 12, WARWICK STREET. 


All rights reserved , 





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# • 




PREFACE.* 


It is now many years ago that the germ of the work 
actually presented in its fuller growth, was first laid in 
my mind, by the pressure of an earnest desire at the 
systematising—or formulating and imaging to myself 
succinctly and fixedly, or upon one invariable and also 
condensed plan if at all possible—the more fundamental 
Ideas of Moral and Mental and also Social and Religious 
Philosophy, as treated of by a great variety of writers in 
an equally great variety of often-times confused and con¬ 
tradictory ways;—and the germ thus laid being that 
of the Idea of the Antithesis and yet Interconnexion of 
the Spiritual and Material,—or the Idea of a Trinity in 
Unity, of Active or Moving Spirit—Passive or Moved 
Matter—and their mutual interconnexion in some resulting 
Neutral or Mathematical Movement —a movement, that is, 
in lines of some sort, and which I symbolized thus : 

SPIRIT. 

Y 

I 

V 

X-MATHE • MATICS —X 

A 

I 

A 

MATTER. 

I was then led, 

in the first place, to more complicated symbolical 

* Note. —The Diagrams of the present publication appeared originally 
under the Title of “ The Disentanglement of Ideas, or Mystery of the 
Cross,” but without Explanatory Text. The actual edition is, therefore, 
now offered as a great improvement on the first, not alone as regards the 
additional Text, but as regards the much more accurate wording of the 
diagrams. Any reference indeed to the former edition in that respect 
except as a matter of curiosity, would in many cases mislead. 






IV. 


Peeface. 


figuring, and was only recalled from the path thus 
entered upon, to the simplicity of the actual Method, 
to the Method indeed from which I had originally started, 
by stumbling accidentally, as it were, but at a very critical 
period of my elaboration, upon the following passage in 
Dr. E. H. Nolan’s History of British India, vol I. p. 50. 

“ The Buddhists of Tartary used the sign of The Cross as a charm 
to dispel invisible dangers, and reverenced the form of the Cross in many 

ways. .In every nation possessing a 

Creed or a Philosophy the same sign has been used, 

. . . . At Nineveh it was found among the ruins as a 

sacred emblem. In Egypt it was similarly usel, as is well known. The 
Spanish priests were astonished to find the Cross worshipped in Mexico.” 

The following from the Edinburgh Review was read 
much later, but is appended as a development of the 
above :— 

“ From the dawn of organised Paganism in the Eastern world to 
the final establishment of Christianity in the Western, The Cross was 
undoubtedly one of the commonest and most sacred of symbolical 
monuments; and, to a remarkable extent, it is so still in almost every 
land where that of Calvary is unrecognised or unknown. 

Apart from any distinction of social or intellectual superiority of 
caste, colour, nationality, or location in either hemisphere, it appears to 
have been the aboriginal possession of every people in antiquity ; the 
elastic girdle, so to say, which embraced the most widely separated 
heathen communities; the most significant token of an universal brother¬ 
hood ; the principal point of contact in every system of Pagan mythology, 
* That mighty maze, but not without a plan.’ 


Diversified forms of the symbol are delineated more or less artistically, 
according to the progress achieved in civilization at the period, on the 
ruined walls of temples and palaces, on natural rocks and sepulchral 
galleries, on the hoariest monoliths and the rudest statuary, on coins 
medals, and vases of every description, and, in not a few instances, are 
preserved in the architectural proportions of subterranean as well as 
superterranean structures of tumuli as well as fanes. The extraordinary 





Preface 


y. 


sanctity attaching to the symbol in every age and under every variety of 
circumstances justified any (expenditure incurred in its fabrication or 
embellishment; hence the most persistent labour, the most consummate 
ingenuity, were (lavished" upon 'it. Populations of essentially different 
culture, tastes, and pursuits—the highly civilised and the demi-civilised, 
the settled and the nomadic—vied with each other in their superstitious 
adoration of it,'and in their efforts to extend the knowledge of its excep¬ 
tional import and virtue amongst their latest posterities. 

The marvellous rock-hewn caves of Elephanta and Ellora, and the 
stately temples of Mathura and Terputty in the East may be cited as 
characteristical examples of one laborious method of exhibiting it, and 
the megalithic structures of Calermish and New Grange in the West, of 
another,|]whilst a third may be instanced in the great temple of Mitzla, 
‘ the city of the moon,’ in Ojaaca, Central America, also excavated in the 
living rock, and manifesting the same stupendous labour and ingenuity as 
are observable in the cognate caverns of Salsette—of endeavours, we 
repeat, made by peoples as intellectually as geographically distinct, and 
followers withal of independent and unassociated deities, to magnify and 

perpetuate some grand primeval symbol.. 

Of the several varieties of the Cross still in vogue as national or ecclesias¬ 
tical symbols in this and other European states, and distinguished by the 
familiar appellation of St. George, St. Andrew, the Maltese, the Greek 
the Latin, &c., &c., there is not one amongst them the existence of which 
may not be traced to the remotest antiquity. They were the common 
property of the Eastern nations. No revolution or other casualty has 
wrought any perceptible difference in their several forms or delineations ; 
they have passed from one hemisphere to the other intact; have survived 
dynasties, empires, and races; have been borne on the crest of each suc¬ 
cessive wave of Aryan population in its course towards the west; and hav¬ 
ing been reconsecrated in later times by their lineal descendants, are still 
recognised as military and national badges of distinction.”—Article, The 
Pre-Christian Cross, Edinburgh Review , January, 1870. 

The substance of the passage in Dr. Nolan's History 
was not altogether new to me, but struck me much more 
forcibly on the occasion referred to than ever before, 
and in such a manner as to give rise to the following 
reflections :— If, I argued —if the symbol of the Cross is so 
implicated with the workings of the human brain as to 



VI. 


Preface. 


have been explicated continuously, and everywhere by 
the Human Race a priori to, and apart from, the events 
claimed as those of Historical Christianity,—and not only 
explicated, but explicated or ex-pressed so prominently— 
expressed as the nucleus around which all other Ideas, 
all the other desires and aspirations of men invariably 
clung and clustered,—it cannot be accounted for, unless 
under the supposition that that symbol is somehow con¬ 
nected with,—perhaps indeed the true Arche-type of their 
Order-ing ;—the plan and means of that Order-ing , 
which I have been so long in search of—which Humanity 
itself has been in search of since the birthday of ages. 
The Cross in all its simplicity must be to Philosophy, 

-THAT IS TO THE ORDER-ING OF WORDS AND IDEAS-THAT 

which the Cross or Co-ordinate Axes of Geometry— 

HAS BEEN TO SCIENCE ! 

I tested my conclusion—that is, I wrote certain 
Words or Ideas which had hitherto appeared in the Foci 
of an Ellipse, or thus :— 


Y 



across each other, or thus :— 
Y 


- Mi, ' . n .-X 

a 

oo 

A 





Preface. 


Vll. 


and in a very few months I had succeeded in order-ing 
my Words and Ideas, in the degree of the First Edition of 
this work, as now by still further effort in the same 
direction, but with a more complete understanding, in 
the degree of the Second. 

My employment of the term f Mystery of the. Cross’ 
on the title-page of the First Edition was, therefore, in 
allusion to the mystery of the symbol of the Cross, having 
thus led the van of Man’s Progress since Man was. But 
the mystery is now made plain ! It so led the van, 
because around that Ideal, all the other Ideals of Man, 
the Ideals of his Soul-Affection and Body-Sense, of his 
Mind’s Instincts and Intellect are found to entwine as 
the heart-strings entwine with the heart itself. What 
leads Man on if it be not Ideas ? And if so, could it be 
otherwise than that the Idea of Ideas,—the Idea, namely, 
which carried along with it the supreme law of their joint 
ordering, for the purposes of Man’s Good, Man’s Happi¬ 
ness, and Man’s Perfection, should be held aloft in all 
ages and all nations by the leaders of their kind ? 

But I need not comment farther. Whether the out¬ 
burst was one of mere idle, or of truthful enthusiasm, will 
be decided, according as the work itself is recognised or 
denied, as in conformity to the truth or actuality of Man 
and his circumstances; and I shall, therefore, probably 
best complete this part of my task, by stating more par¬ 
ticularly, but shortly, in what the work consists. 

The work then consists of three Plates or dia¬ 
grammatical representations of the Idea of Man :— 
Firstly , as an embodiment of Self-law-giving-Energies 

which issue as Will;— 


Peeface. 


viii. 

Secondly , as conditioned or put together with an external 
of other beings and things, and therefore as willing 
a Destiny of Society and Industry ; and 

Thirdly , as willing and determining the Ends involved 
with the Destiny of the Second Idea of Man, and 
therefore also with the Idea of the fundamental 
Spirit or Self-law-giving-Energies of the First— 
which Third Plate or Third Idea with explanatory 
Text will, however, constitute the Second Part of 
the work;—the First and Second Plates or First 
and Second Ideas of Man being alone contained in 
the First. 

Thus taken as a whole however, a complete cate¬ 
gorical representation of the Idea of Man, the advantages 
of which will scarcely be disputed, provided only it be 
correctly and sufficiently done;—and since therefore, the 
question of such correctness and sufficiency will come 
first of all to the front,—I must here beg to impress upon 
the critical reader the necessity of distinguishing betwixt 
the Method, and its laws on the one hand; and the 
application of that Method as regards the specific wording, 
and also as regards the arguments by which such wording 
is in each case supported, on the other;—for although the 
correctness and sufficiency of the wording, as of the 
arguments in support, are supposed to be in the main 
unassailable, it is by no means contended that no improve¬ 
ment can take place, but on the contrary allowed that 
some positions, and some arguments, may be ultimately 
found faulty, and have to be rectified—but with this 
reserve—that if so judged and so rectified—both judg¬ 
ment and rectification must necessarily be in accordance 



Preface. 


ix- 

with the laws, and therefore due to the light and force of 
the Method itself,—the authority of which will thence not 
be invalidated, but rather strengthened and confirmed. 


THE LAWS OP THE METHOD. 


The Laws of the Method will probably be gathered 
more readily from the perusal of the text itself, in con¬ 
nexion with the inspection of the Plates, but their seriatim 
recital here, may be of use for occasional reference. 

1st Law.—'That of the analytical exhibition of the Spirit 
and Mind elements—and their Synthetical Co¬ 
ordination as Primary and Secondary Axes. 

2nd Law.— That of the analytical exhibition and Synthe¬ 
tical Co-ordination of the Positive and Negative 
Poles of both Axes. 

3rd Law.—Greater affinity of the two positive and two 
negative poles respectively. 

4th Law.—Pivotal inter-connexion or Concentration of 
Axes and Poles. 

5th Law.—That of the Analytical exhibition and Syntheti¬ 
cal Co-ordination of the Pivotal Modes in corres¬ 
pondence with their elementary constituents. 

6th Law.—That of the Analytical exhibition and Synthe¬ 
tical Co-ordination of the Positive and Negative 
Poles of both Mode Axes. 






X. 


The Laws of the Method. 


7th Law.—Greater affinity, likewise, of these two positive 
and two negative poles respectively. 

8th Law.—That of the Means —or of the meaning of the 
Mode Axis Poles as to be read from that of the 
two Cardinals betwixt which they lie. 


























EXPLANATORY TEXT OF 

PLATE I . 


The First Idea of Man. 

1.—The starting point of any sufficient development Spirit. 
of the Idea of Man, cannot be otherwise than that of the 
Idea of Spirit — f the Spirit of Man which is in him ’—but 
the Idea of Spirit moreover, as disentangled from its so 
intimate combination with that of Mind—and when thus 
held apart, also further defined, as an Auto-nomic, or Sel f- 
moving , and Self-law-giving-Energy ;—for the most 
general Idea we have of Man, is that of his being a Self- 
moving, and Self-law-giving-Energy ; —or, of his turning 
upon the Spirit-Idea when properly defined, as upon a 
Primary or Principal Axis, even as imaged in the Plate. 

“ Plato takes his stand on the position, that the mere motion of j^ ea c £ 
matter implies the existence of Spirit as an older and higher essence, or, Spirit as alone 

in other words, that Spirit alone is self-moving .the term Self-moving. 

auto-kinesis , is not to be confined to local motion, but may refer to any 

change in the state or condition of a thing.In this sense 

volition is auto-kinesis, or self-motion, even although it never may be ex¬ 
hibited outwardly. That matter cannot possess this, in either acceptation 
of the term, is an affirmation rendered necessary by the very laws of mind. 

It is involved in the term itself, or rather in the idea of which the term is 




2 


The First Idea op Man. 


the real, and not merely arbitrary representative, and may therefore be 
called a logical necessity. Although the arguments may have something 
of the a posteriori form, it is nevertheless strictly a priori. It is a conclu¬ 
sion not derived from experience ; for in truth, aside from the essential idea 
which the laws of our minds compel us to create, all our mere experience 
of matter is directly opposed to it. As presented to our senses, it seems 
to he ever in motion, and this phenomenon exhibits itself more constantly 
the more closely and minutely it is examined; so that, if experience 
alone were to be consulted, or, to use the language of some of our 
Baconians, if nature alone were to be interrogated, motion would appear 
to be the law, and rest (if absolute rest were ever to be discovered) the 
exception. Notwithstanding all this, the mind cannot divest itself of 
that idea (whether innate, or acquired, or suggested) which it hath of 
body, as distinguished from space, and whenever this idea is clearly 
called out, the soul doth affirm of necessity , and in spite of all the 
phenomena of experience to the contrary, that matter cannot move 
itself. The same necessity compels it, also, to declare that matter 
cannot continue motion by virtue of any inherent power, any more than 
it can commence it, and this, too, notwithstanding the opposing dogma 
so confidently laid down in all our books of natural philosophy. We 
have the constant observation of ten thousand motions, commenced 
and continued without the visible intervention of any spiritual agent, 
and, apparently, the result of innate properties, and, yet, when the 
mind remains sound and true to itself, all this does not at all weaken 
the innate conviction, that every kinesis implies the existence of an 
originating will or spirit somewhere, however many the impulsive forces 
that may seem to have intervened between that will and its ultimate 
object. When the mind is in a healthy state, we say it is compelled 
to affirm, and does affirm this, with the same confidence as the pro¬ 
position that the three angles of every triangle are equal to two right 
angles, or that two bodies cannot occupy the same space. Even this, 



The Idea of Spirit. 


3 


notwithstanding it lies at the foundation of mechanical and dynamical 
physics, is ultimately to be resolved into a logical necessity; that is, 
a necessary affirmation into which the mind is driven by those laws of 
its own, that form not only our highest, but our only idea of truth ...” 
—Tayler Lewis's (16th Excursus , p. 143,) “ Plato against the Atheists." 


“ It may, perhaps, be objected, that Plato is resting these important The 

positions on mere words, to which he assigns his own arbitrary defini- Sp*rit-Idea 

as interpreted 

tions or notions. But what is meant by the sneering expression, mere a i 0 gi ca i 
words, which is such a favourite with a certain class of modern declaimers ? necessity of 
What are words—we speak not now of sounds or articulate enuncia- ^ 16 minc *‘ 
tions, onomata or remata, but of the higher term logoi .—What are words 
in this sense, but outward expressions of the inward logical necessities 
of our own minds ? And what can be higher proof for us than those 
affirmations, which the immutable laws of our own souls compel us to 
make, in respect to what is included or not included in a certain idea ? 

Whatever belongs to the idea is necessary; so, on the other hand, 
whatever is necessary pertains to an idea, and the exclusion of any part 
involves, for our minds, a logical contradiction. The naming of them, 
therefore, cannot be arbitrary, except so far as the mere outward sound 
is concerned. There are certain ideas which are not dependent on language, 
as some of the nominalists of the School of Locke would hold, but language 
on them. So far, human speech may be regarded as something super¬ 
natural, although its outward dress or vocal forms may have been the 
result of conventional or accidental usage, instead of any natural 
adaptedness of sound to sense. We may give to the logos, or notion, 
any onoma we please. We may call it psyche, pneuma, ruach, nephesh, 

animus, anima, geist, or soul; we may etymologically associate this 

i 

onoma with any such sensible phenomenon as we may fancy comes the 
nearest to the conception, such as air, breath,fire, aether, &c.: and in this 


4 


The Fibst Idea op Man. 


Soul-Affection 
and 

Body-Sense 


•way the onoma may continually change ; but the logos is not conventional. 
In all languages, even from the earliest periods, it has had a distinct 
vocal sign—as much so as that of body —and we expect, as a matter of 
course, to find it in every tongue we may investigate. The Idea 
which calls for the name is implanted by God as one of the fixed parts of 
our being. The metaphysical notion of soul is self-motion, self-energy, 
auto-kinesis. Of this notion we cannot divest ourselves. Hence, after 
proving, even from physical premises, that there must be somewhere 
self-motion, the mind attaches this logos to its onoma, and affirms that 
this self-motion is soul, psyche, geist, &c.,—being the same unchanging 
notion, whatever be the name—and that this name, although fixed to the 
flowing and varying sensible phenomenon from which it may have been 
etymologically derived—ultimately represents the immutable logos of 
which that sensible phenomenon is the symbol .—Tayler Lewis's (29th 
Excursus, p. 196). “ Plato against the Atheists A 


2.—The Spirit, or Self-moving, and Self-law-giving - 
Energy determined (par. 1) as the Primary or Principal 
Axis of the First Idea of Man, is now again shown to be 
the Spirit, or Self-moving, and Self-law-giving-Energy of 
Soul-Affection and Body-Sense ;—wherefore since the Idea 
of Soul-Affection is that of a Self-law-giving-Energy 
directed to the good of others, or of the Not-Self, and as 
so dependent upon that good, for the good of the Self, as 
to make of the Not-Self, One with the Self;—whilst the 
Idea of the Body-Sense is that of the self-same Energy, as 
directed more immediately to the good of the Self, and 


i 




Soul-Affection and Body-Sense. 


5 


thence in so far away from the good of others, or as inde¬ 
pendent of it, and therefore also as maintaining the Not- 
Self as distinct from the Self;—the Idea of Polarity, or 
that of opposite properties in opposite directions, must be 
connected with the Idea of the fundamental Self-law- 
giving-Energy, and the Idea of Soul-Affection be deter¬ 
mined as its positive or superior, and that of Body-Sense 
as its negative or inferior pole. 

“ The tardy development of several of the physical sciences—for The 

example, of optics, electricity, magnetism, and the higher generalizations progressive 

generalisation 

of chemistry—Mr. Whewell ascribes to the fact that mankind had not yet ^ j(j ea 0 f 

possessed themselves of the Idea of Polarity, that is, the idea of opposite Polarity 

properties in opposite directions. But what was there to suggest such an an ^gument 

in favour of 

idea, until, by a separate examination of several of these different branches a0 ^ ua j 
of knowledge, it was shown that the facts of each of them did present, in application, 
some instances at least, the curious phenomenon of opposite properties in 
opposite directions ? The thing was superficially manifest only in two 
cases, those of the magnet and of electrified bodies; and there the concep¬ 
tion was encumbered with the circumstance of material poles, or fixed points 
in the body itself, in which points this opposition of properties seemed to 
be inherent. The first comparison and abstraction had led only to this 
conception of poles ; and, if anything corresponding to that conception had 
existed in the phenomena of chemistry or optics, the difficulty which Mr. 

Whewell considers so great would have been extremely small. The obscurity 
arose from the fact, that the polarities in chemistry and optics were distinct 
species , though of the same genus , with the polarities in electricity and 
magnetism: and that in order to assimilate the phenomena to one another } 
it was necessary to compare a polarity wityout poles , such, for instance, 
as is exemplified ig the polarization of light, and the polarity with poles, 
which we see in the magnet: and to recognize that these polarities, while 


6 


The First Idea op Man. 


different in many other respects, agree in the one character which is ex¬ 
pressed by the phrase —opposite properties in opposite directions. From 
the result of such a comparison it was that the minds of scientific men 
formed this new general conception: between which, and the first con¬ 
fused feeling of an analogy between some of the phenomena of light and 
those of electricity and magnetism, there is a long interval, filled up by 
the labour and more or less sagacious suggestions of many superior 
minds.”— Mill's Logic , book IV., chap, ii., par. 2. 


Self-love and 
the love of the 
Not-self as 
opposite 
Polarities. 


“ According to the sound biological theory of man, our Social 
Affections are inferior in strength and steadiness to the Personal, though 
the common welfare must depend especially on the regular satisfaction of 
the former, which first orginate the social state for us, and then maintain 
it against the divergencies of individual instincts. To understand the 

sociological value of this biological datum, we must observe.that 

the condition is necessary, and that it is only its excess that we have to 
deplore. In analogy with the former case (Affection and Intellectual Life) 
personal instincts must give an aim and direction to our social actions. 
All notions of public good must be based on those of private advantage, 
because the former can be nothing else than that which is common to all 
cases of the latter : and under no ideal refinement of our nature, could 
we ever habitually desire for others anything else but what we wish for 
ourselves,—unless in those infinitely rare and very secondary cases in 
which an excessive refinement of moral delicacy, fostered by intellectual 
meditation, may enable a man to appreciate for another means of happiness 
which are of little or no value to himself. Our moral nature would then 
be destroyed, and not improved, if it were possible to repress our 
personal instincts, since our social affections, deprived of necessary 
direction, would degenerate into a vague and useless charity, destitute of 
all practical efficacy. When the morality of an advanced society bids us 
love our neighbours as ourselves, it embodies in the best way the deepest 




Soul-Affection and Body-Sense. 


7 


truth, with only such exaggeration as is required in the formation of a 
type, which is always fallen short of in practice. In this sublime precept, 
the personal instinct is the guide and measure of the social; and in no 
other way could the principle be presented ; for in what respect and how 
could any one love another who did not love himself ? Thus, again, we 
may be satisfied with the nature of man, though not with the degree of 
his self-regard. We must regret that even in the best natures, the social 
affections are so overborne by the personal, as rarely to command conduct 
in a different way.”— Comte's Positive Philosophy by Miss Martineaic, 
book VI., chap. v. 

“ Self-love but serves the'virtuous mind to wake, 

As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake, 

The centre moved, a circle straight succeeds! 

Another still, and still another spreads : 

Friend, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace, 

His country next, and next all human race. 

Wide and more wide— the o’erflowings of the mind 
Take every creature in of every kind. 

Earth smiles around, with boundless bounty blest, 

And heaven beholds its image in his breast.” 

— Pope's 4 th Epis : p. 363-379. 

[Self-love must here be understood to signify the 
love of one's own good, or the good of the Self, but a love 
which involves with its own good, the good of others, or 
of the Not-Self, and thus embraces the Not-Self with the 
Self as One with it.— Author.] 

“ Self-love is sometimes used in a general sense to denote all those The good of 

principles of our nature which prompt us to seek our own good, just as those Se ^ as 

distinct from 

principles which lead us to seek the good of others are all comprised ^e good of the 
under the name of benevolence. All our desires tend toward the attain- Not-self. 


The Idea of 
Soul-Affection 
as involving 
the good of 
others with its 
own good, and 
thus binding 
the Not-self to 


8 


The First Idea of Man. 


Mind. 


ment of some good or the averting of some evil—having reference eithei 
to ourselves or others, and may therefore be brought under the heads 

of benevolence and Self-love .The error of Hobbes, and the 

School of Philosophers who maintained that in doing good to others our 
ultimate aim is to do good to ourselves, lay in supposing that there is any 
antagonism between benevolence and Self-love. So long as Self-love does 
not degenerate into selfishness , it is quite compatible with our benevo¬ 
lence.”— Flemings's Vocabulary of Philosophy. 

“ Self-love may, like any other of our tendencies, be cherished and 
indulged to excess, or it may be ill directed. But within due bounds it is 
allowable and right, and by no means incompatible with benevolence, or 
a desire to promote the happiness of others. And Dr. Hutchison, who 
maintains that kind affection is what constitutes an agent virtuous, has 
said that he who cherishes kind affection towards all, may also love him¬ 
self ; may love himself as a part of the whole system of rational and 
sentient beings; may promote his own happiness in preference to that 
of another who is not more deserving of his love; and may be innocently 
solicitous about himself while he is wisely benevolent towards all.”— 
Inquiry concerning Moral Good and Evil, Section 3rd. 


3.—The Ideas of Soul-Affection and Body-Sense in¬ 
volve with these Ideas as already explained, the further 
Idea of a minding of the Conditions and Ends, which they 
respectively affect or have the sense of ’,—or of a Mind 
which like the Spirit has opposite or polar properties— 
and which Idea of Mind is thence also determined as the 







Mind, 


9 


Secondary Axis of the imaged First Idea of Man, or as 
the Complementary and Co-ordinate Transverse Axis or 
Equatorial of the fundamental Spirit-Axis, from which it 
had in the first place been disentangled (par. 1)—thus 
still further confirming the doctrine of Spirit-polarity 
already introduced. 

“ The term Soul (and what I say of the term Soul is true of the T ^ e g pirit 0 £ 

term Spirit ,).may be regarded as another synonym for the Soul-Affection 

unknown basis of the mental phenomena.”—Sir W. Hamilton's Eighth anc * 

Body-Sense, 

Lecture on Metaphysics , vol I., p. 134. the 

Basis of Mind; 

“ About the method of psychology or ideology, enough has been or Mind the 

said. As to the doctrine, the first glance shows a radical fault in it : ^ ary or 

Transverse 

common to all sects,—a false estimate of the general relation between the Axis of the 

affective and the intellectual faculties. However various may be the First Idea of 

Man. 

theories about the preponderance of the latter, all metaphysicians assert 
that preponderance by making these faculties their starting-point. The 
intellect is almost exclusively the subject of their speculations, and the 
affections have been almost entirely neglected; and, moreover, always 
subordinated to the understanding. Now, such a conception represents 
precisely the reverse of the reality not only for animals, but also for 
man; for daily experience shows that the affections , the propensities , the 
passions , are the great springs of human life; and that, so far from 
resulting from intelligence, their spontaneous and independent impulse is 
indispensable to the first awakening and continuous development of the 
various intellectual faculties, by assigning to them a permanent end, 
without which—to say nothing of the vagueness of their general direction 
—they would remain dormant in the majority of men. It is even but too 
certain that the least noble and most animal propensities are habitually 



10 The First Idea of Man. 

the most energetic, and therefore the most influential. The whole of 
human nature is thus very unfaithfully represented by these futile 
systems, which, if noticing the affective faculties at all, have vaguely 
connected them with one single principle—sympathy, and, above all, 
self-consciousness, always supposed to be directed by the intellect. 
Thus it is that, contrary to evidence, man has been represented as 
essentially a reasoning being, continually carrying on, unconsciously, 
a multitude of imperceptible calculations, with scarcely any spontaneity 
of action from infancy upward. This false conception has doubtless been 
supported by a consideration worthy of all respect,—that it is by the 
intellect that man is modified and improved; but science requires, before 
all things, the reality of any views, independently of their desirableness ; 
and it is always this reality which is the basis of genuine utility.”— 
Comte's Pos. Phil., by Miss Martineau, book V. chap. 6. 

“ It has appeared in the preceding chapter, that in cases in which 
the phenomena suggest to us the idea of Polarity, we are also led to. 
assume some material machinery as the mode in which the polar forces 
are exerted. We assume, for instance, globular particles which possess 
poles, or the vibrations of a fluid, or two fluids attracting each other; 
in every case, in short, some hypothesis by which the existence and 
operation of Polarity is embodied in geometrical and mechanical pro¬ 
perties of a medium ; nor is it possible for us to avoid proceeding upon 
the conviction that some such hypothesis must be true; although the 
nature of the connexion between the mechanism and the phenomena 
must still be indefinite and arbitrary. 

But since each class of Polar Phenomena is thus referred to an 
ulterior cause, of which we know no more than that it has a polar 
character, it follows that different Polarities may result from the same 
cause manifesting its polar character under different aspects. 


The Idea of 
an Equatorial 
or Transverse 
Axis 

in connection 
with Polarity. 


Mind. 


11 


■faking, for example, the hypothesis of globular particles, if 
electricity result from an action dependent upon the poles of each 
globule, magnetism may depend upon an action in the equator of each 
globule; or, taking the supposition of transverse vibrations, if polarized 
light result directly from such vibrations , crystallization may have 
reference to the axes of the elasticity of the medium by which the 
vibrations are rendered transverse,—so far as the polar character only of 
the phenomena is to be accounted for. I say this may be so, in so far 
only as the polar character of the phenomena is concerned, for whether 
the relation of electricity to magnetism, or of crystalline forces to light, 
can really be explained by such hypothesis, remains to be determined by 
the facts themselves. But since the first necessary feature of the 
hypothesis is, that it shall give polarity, and since an hypothesis which 
does this, may, by its mathematical relations, give polarities of different 
kinds and in different directions, any two co-existent kinds of polarity may 
result from the same cause, manifesting itself in various manners. 

The conclusion to which we are led by these general considera¬ 
tions is, that two co-existing classes of polar phenomena may be effects of 
the same cause. But those who have studied such phenomena more 
deeply and attentively have, in most or in all cases, arrived at the 
conviction that the various kinds of Polarity, in such cases must be 
connected and fundamentally identical—Whew ell's Hist, of Scientific 
Ideas , book V. chap. 2, art. 1. 

“ This attractive power (magnetic) is not diffused uniformly over 
every part of the surface. It is found to exist in some parts with much 
greater force than in others, and on a magnet a certain line is found 
where it disappears. This line divides the magnet into two parts or 
regions , in which the attractive power prevails in varying degrees, its 
energy augmenting with the distance from the neutral line just men¬ 
tioned. This neutral line may be called the equator of the magnet.”— 
Lardner's Handbook of Natural Philosophy , book III. chap. 1, p. 511. 


12 


The First Idea of Man. 


Instinct 

and 

Intellect. 


The 

distinction of 
Instinct and 
Intellect as 
negative and 
positive Mind 
—faculties 
recognised 
though 
confusedly. 


4.—The opposite but Co-ordinate Poles of the Idea 
of Mind (par. 1) are thus Instinct and Intellect ;— 
Instinct, the Instinct of Conditions, its comparatively 
negative or inferior;—and Intellect, the Intellect of Ends, 
its more positive or superior pole. Instinct, namely, as 
its etymology imports, is that incipient impulse of minding 
radically involved (par. 3) with the Idea of Soul-Affec¬ 
tion, and Body-Sense, as affecting and sensible of the 
conditions in which they energise:—and Intellect, as its 
etymology likewise imports, that more advanced or deter¬ 
minate state of minding, by means of which the same 
Soul-Affection and Body-Sense, carry on conjointly the 
processes of minding initiated as Instinct, and tend by 
more and more methodical combinations towards their 
perfected ends (par. 3). 

“ In the plan of the present work, Book First, entitled Sense and 
Instinct , will include the discussion of both Feeling and Volition in their 
lower forms , that is apai't from Intellect , or so as to involve Intellect in 
the least possible degree; the Sensations of the different Senses will form 
a leading portion of the contents. This book will comprise all that is 
primitive or instinctive in the susceptibilities and impulses of the mental 
organization . The Second Book will propose to itself the full exposition 
of the intellectual phenomena.”— Bain's The Senses and the Intellect” 
Introduction, chap. I. p. 8 

“ By Aristotle, nous is used to denote :— 

1.—Our higher faculties of thought and knowledge. 



Instinct and Intellect. 13 

2.—The faoulty, habit, or pla$ of principles, that is, of self-evident 
and self-evidencing notions and judgments. 

The Schoolmen, following Boethius, translated it by intellects 
and intelligentia ; and some of them appropriated the former of these terms 
to its first or general signification, the latter to its second or special.”—- 
Sir William Hamilton Reid's Works, note A. sect. 5. 

Aristotle distinguished between the intellects patiens and intellects 
agens. The former, perishing with the body (De Anima, cap. 5), by 
means of the senses, imagination, and memory, furnished the matter of 
knowledge; the latter, separated from the body, and eternal, gave that 
knowledge form. Under the impressions of the senses the mind is 
passive; but while external things rapidly pass, imagination does not 
allow them altogether to escape, but the knowledge of them is retained 
by the memory. But this knowledge, being the knowledge of singulars, 
cannot give universal notions, but merely general ones. The intellcctus 
agens, however, proceeding upon the information furnished by the senses, 
actually evolves the idea which the intellects patiens potentially possesses. 
His illustration is,—as light makes colours existing potentially, actually 
to be, so the intellects dges converts into aotuality, and brings, as it 
were, to a new life, whatever was discovered or collected by the intellects 
pdtiens. As the senses receive the forms of things expressed in matter, 
the intellect comprehends the universal form, which, free from the 
changes of matter, is really prior to it, and underlies the production of it 

as cause. 

Aristotle has often been said to reduce all knowledge to experience. But 
although he maintained that we could not shut our eyes and frame laws 
and causes for all things, yet he maintained, while he appealed to 
experience, that the intellect was the ultimate judge of what is true.”— 
Fleming's Vocabulary of Philosophy. 



14 


The First Idea of Man. 


Instinct a 
mental faculty 
or the 

Incipient Mind 
—Impulse of 
Soul-affection 
and 

Body-Sense. 




u It must not be overlooked that though the psychologists have 
agreed in neglecting the intellectual and moral faculties of brutes, which 
have been happily left to the naturalists, they have occasioned great 
mischief by their obscure and indefinite distinction between intelligence 
(intellect) and instinct , thus setting up a division between human and 
animal nature which has had too much effect, even upon zoologists, ta 
this day. The only meaning that can be attributed to the word instinct , 
is any spontaneous impulse in a determinate direction, independently of 
any foreign influence. In this primitive sense, the term evidently applies 
to the proper and direct activity of any faculty whatever, intellectual as 
well as affective; and it therefore does not conflict with the term intelli¬ 
gence in any way, as we so often see when we speak of those who, without 
any education, manifest a marked talent for music, painting, mathematics, 
&c. In this way there is instinct , or rather, there are instincts in man, 
as much or more than in brutes. If, on the other hand, we describe 
intelligence as the aptitude to modify conduct in conformity to the 
circumstances of each case,—which, in fact, is the main practical attribute 
of reason , in its proper sense,—it is more evident than before that there is 
no other essential difference between humanity and animality than that of 
the degree of development admitted by a faculty which is by its nature 
common to all animal life, and without which it could not even be 
conceived to exist. Thus the famous scholastic definition of man as a 
reasonable animal offers a real no-meaning, since no animal, especially in 
the higher parts of the zoological scale, could live without being to a 
certain extent reasonable, in proportion to the complexity of its organism 

.An attentive examination of the facts, therefore, discredits 

the perversion of the word instinct when it is used to signify the fatality 
under which animals are impelled to the mechanical performances of acts , 
uniformly determinate, without any possible modification from corres¬ 
ponding circumstances, and neither requiring nor allowing any education 
properly so-called. This gratuitous supposition is evidently a remnant 



Instinct and Intellect, 15 

of the automatic hypothesis of Descartes. Leroy has demonstrated that, 
among mammifers and birds, this ideal fixity in the construction of habi¬ 
tations, in the seeking of food by hunting, in the mode of migration, &c., 
exists only in the eyes of closet naturalists, or inattentive observers.”— 
Comte's Po8. Phil., by Miss Martineau, vol. I., chap. 6., p. 466. 

** Instinct leads to actions which are such as if they were deter¬ 
mined by Ideas. The lamb follows its mother hy instinct; but the 
motions by which it does this, the special muscular exertions, depend 
entirely upon the geometrical and mechanical relations of external bodies, 
as the form of the ground, and the force of the wind. The contractions 
of the muscles which are requisite in order that the creature may obey 
its instinct, vary with every variation of these external conditionsare 
not determined by any rale or necessity, but by properties of Space and 
Force. Thus the action is not governed by Sensations directly, but by 
sensations moulded by Ideas. And the same is the case with other cases 
of instinct. 

The dog hunts by instinct; but he hunts certain kinds of animals 
merely, thus showing that his instinct acts according to Resemblances and 
Differences ; he crosses the field repeatedly to find the track of his prey 
by scent; thus recognising the relations of Space with reference to the 
track; he leaps, adjusting |his Force to the distance and height of the 
leap with mechanical precision ; and thus he practically recognises the 
Ideas of Resemblance, Space, and Force. 

But have animals such Ideas ? In any proper sense in which we 
can speak of possessing Ideas, it appears plain that they have not, 
Animals cannot, at any time, be said properly to possess ideas, for ideas 
imply the possibility of speculative knowledge. 

But even if we allow to animals only the practical possession of 
Ideas, we have still a great difficulty remaining.It seems to ns 



16 The First Idea of Man. 

as if the sensations coold not, without considerable practice, be rightly 
referred to Ideas of Space, Foroe, Resemblance, and the like. 

Yet that which thus appears impossible, is in fact done by animals. 
The lamb almost immediately after its birth follows its mother, accommo¬ 
dating the action of its muscles to the form of the ground. The chick 
just escaped from the shell, picks up a minute insect, directing its beak 
with the greatest accuracy. Even the human infant sucks the breast and 
exerts its muscles in sucking, almost as soon as it is born. Eence, then, 
we see that Instinct produces at once actions regulated by Ideas, or, at 
least, which take place as if they were regulated by Ideas ; although the 
Ideas cannot have been developed by exercise, and only appear to exist so 
far as such actions are concerned.”— Whs well'8 Hist, of Scientific Ideas , 
book IX., chap. 5, art. 22. 

[Where is the difficulty of supposing that the 
Affective and Sens e-mvnding of animals varies in kind 
and degree with the necessities of the conditions in which 
the animal is placed—or the necessities of the putting 
together , as the term condition signifies, of the animal and 
its surroundings ? The Instincts of the Duck and the 
Chick, or the Ideas they have in regard to water are 
very different—that is, seeing that their respective 
fundamental or organic putting together with water differ 
much—so also do their respective Sens e-mindings differ 
equally and appropriately.— Author. 

“ I will not attempt any definition of instinct. It would be easy to 
show that several distinct mental actions are commonly embraced by this 
term; but every one understands what is meant, when it is said that 


Instinct and Intellect. 


17 


instinct impels the cuckoo to migrate and to lay her eggs in other birds’ 
nests. An action, which we ourselves should require experience to enable 
us to perform, when performed by an animal, more especially by a very 
young one, without any experience, and when performed by many indi¬ 
viduals in the same way, without their knowing for what purpose it is 
performed , is usually said to be instinctive. But I could shew that none 
of these characters of instinct are universal. A little dose, as Pierre 
Huber expresses it, of judgment or reason, often comes into play, even in 

animals very low in the scale of nature. 

It will be universally admitted that instincts are as important as corporeal 
structure for the welfare of each species, under its present conditions of 
life. Under changed conditions of life, it is at least possible that slight 

modifications of instinct might be profitable to a species. 

.. Changes of instinct may sometimes be facilitated 

by the same species having different instincts at different periods of life, 
or at different seasons of the year, or when placed under different 

circumstances, &c.;.and such instances of diversity of instinct 

in the same species can be shown to occur in nature. 

A number of curious and authentic instances could be given of the 
inheritance of all shades of disposition and tastes, and likewise of the 
oddest tricks, associated with certain frames of mind or periods of time 

. . :.—domestic instincts have been acquired and 

natural instincts have been lost partly by habit, and partly by man 
selecting and accumulating during successive generations, peculiar mental 
habits and actions , which at first appeared from what we mast, in our 
ignorance call an accident. In some cases compulsory habit alone has 
sufficed to produce such inherited mental changes .”— Darwin's Origin of 
Species, chap. VII., passim. 

“ The instincts of animals may be shown to have immediate 
reference, probably in every instance, to the supply of the wants of the 







18 


The First Idea of Mah. 


individual as to the continuance of the race. Thus we have Instincts 
which guide in the selection and the acquisition of food; others which 
govern the construction of a habitation for the individual and a receptacle 

for the eggs.and others which direct their migrations— 

whether in search of food, for the disposal of eggs, or other purposes.”— 
Dr. Carpenter's Animal Physiology , par. 696. 

[Guiding, governing, and directing, are evidently all 
three, characteristics of Mind.— Author.] 

“ Instinct is defined by being opposed to acquisition, education, or 
experience. We might express it as the untaught ability to perform 
actions of all kinds, and more especially such as are necessary or useful 
to the animal. In it a living being possesses, at the moment of birth, 
powers of acting, of the same nature as those subsequently conferred by 
experience and education. When a newly-dropped calf stands up, walks, 
and sucks the udder of the cow, we call the action instinctive.”— Bain's 
The Senses and the Intellect, p. 1, chap. IV. 

[We call the actions instinctive, but in so doing we 
mean that they are of a mind-impelled nature —or of 
a nature, which is the result of a prior state of Sense- 
minding of Conditions on the part of the calf—or of a 
Sense-minding of Appetite and the Conditions of its satis¬ 
faction.— Author.] 


5.—The Ideas of Spirit and Mind being now, however, 
exhibited as Co-ordinate, and therefore inter-crossing 
Axes, with Correlative Polarities, the Analogy of their • 





Will. 


19 


Centre of inter-crossing, as imaged in the Plate, with the 
Idea of Man's Will forces itself upon us;—for the Idea 
we have of Man's Will, is likewise that of an inter-crossing 
of his Spirit and Mind—or of an inter-crossing of the 
Self-law-giving-Energies of his Soul-Affection and Body- 
Sense, with a complementary minding of the conditions 
in which, and the ends towards which they energize—as 
a Centre upon which all his doing or activity turns;—for 
whatever Man does, he does through the Medium of his 
Will, and he does nought apart from it. The Idea of Will, 
is, therefore, in truth, that of a Worki ng Centre or P ivot, 
upon which Man's Primary Spirit and Secondary Mind 


Axes conjointly turn. 


“ l.—When the mind is under the infinence of one feeling, no other 
co-operating or opposing, the resulting effect will be in proportion to the 
strength of the awakened feeling. 

2. —When two or more opposing feelings combined exert their 
influence on the mind at one and the same time, the resulting effect will 
be equal to their difference, and in the direction of the stronger. 

3 . —When two or more feelings combined exert their joint influence 
on the mind in the same direction, the effect produced will he equal to 


Will as the 
result of the 
Spirit’s-Mind- 
ing or as the 
concentrated 
outcoming 
of Affection 
and Sense, 
Instinct and 
Intellect. 


their sum. 

The sense in which the term “ will ” is used comprehends these 
three rules in one expression. 

The Will, as spoken of in any special act, may be said to be the 
sum or difference of all the feelings, exerting an influence on the mind on 
that special occasion.”— Pearson's Analysis of the Human Mind, chap. IX., 
sect. 2, p. 94. 



20 


The First Idea of Man. 


“It is evident to every reflecting mind, that whatever a man does, 
if he is conscious, he does it by an act of his will. Whatever personal 
act he commits must be made at the bidding of the will. He cannot move 
a hand, a foot, an eye, or his tongue, without the direct bidding of the will. 

When an act is done under circumstances, which gain it the general 
appellation of being involuntary, it only means that it is done through the 
strain of circumstances, and is contrary to the general voluntary course of 
the party’s life.”— Pearson's Analysis , chap. IX, sect. 4, pp. 96, 27. 

“ By the term Will, I do not mean to express a more or less highly 
developed faculty of desiring ; but that innate intellectual energy [which, 
unfolding itself from all the other forces of the mind, like a flower from 
its petals, radiates through the whole sphere of our activity—a faculty 
which we are better able to feel than to define; and which we might most 
appropriately designate as the purely practical faculty of man.”— Feuch- 
tersleben, Dietetics of the Soul. 

“ We have only by consciousness to look into our souls as the will 
is working to discover a power which, though intimately connected with 
the other attributes of mind, even as they are closely related to each 
other, does yet stand out distinctly from them, with its peculiar functions 
and its own province.”—Dr. McCosh's Method of the Divine Government, 
book III., chap. 1, p. 266. 

[No consciousness will ever discover a Will which 
must not be referred to some Soul-Affection or Body- 
Sense, or to the Mindings of Instinct or Intellect as to 
their origin.— Author. 

“ The term Volition, applies, as I conceive, to the entire range of 
mental or feeling-promoted actions, p. 



Freedom and Necessity. 


21 


It is the unseen feelings that furnish the key to the vast complica¬ 
tion of man’s works and ways.”—p. 3, Bain's “ The Senses and the 
Intellect," Introduction. 

[That is—Affection and Sense are the prompters of 
Mind, and together they generate Will; and Willed- 
actions.— Author. ] 

“A variety of interesting and instructive apparatus has been Analogy of the 

contrived, to illustrate experimentally the reciprocal forces manifested Central Will 

with the 

between currents and magnets. These may be described generally as c en ^ reg 0 f 
exhibiting a magnet revolving round a current—or a current revolving Electo-Magne- 

i>ic ,v * 

round a magnet— or each revolving round the other, —impelled by the forces * 

revolutions 

which the current and the poles of the magnet exert upon each other.”— an( j c i rcu its. 
Lardner's Handbook of Natural Philosophy, book II., chap. 4, p. 245. 

[Thus we may suppose the Spirit-Axis to revolve 
upon the Mind-Axis ; or the Mind-Axis upon the Spirit- 
Axis ;—or both to revolve at the same time, under the 
Spirit-impulse;—the Centre being in every case common 
to both, and that through which the conjoint action upon 
the external is transmitted.— Author.’] 


6.—The Idea of Will, however, as thus determined, Freedom 
evidently involves the Idea of a Two-fold Mode, or One of Ne ^ gity 
Freedom, and one of Necessity, because of its two-fold 
Spirit and Mind elementary constitution. It is Will- 
Freedom , or Free-Will, or the very Spirit-of-Willing, in 





22 


The First Idea of Man. 


The Free-will 
and 

Necessity 

question 

stated. 


as far as it is simply the out-coming, or out-moving, of 
the fundamental, and therefore altogether independent 
Self-law-giving-Energy;—but in as far as it is the 
out-coming, or out-moving of a complementary minding 
of law-fixed-conditions, and law-fixed-ends, the Will is 
no longer a Free-Will, or an independent Spirit-of-Willing, 
but a Will of Necessity, or dependent Mind-Will—a Will 
hemmed-in by the necessities or conditions and ends, 
amidst which, and towards which, the Free-Spirit works. 

“ The question, whether the law of causality applies in the same 
strict sense to human actions as to other phenomena, is the celebrated 
controversy concerning the freedom of the will; which, from at least as 
far back as the time of Pelagius, has divided both the philosophical and 
the religious world. The affirmative opinion is commonly called the 
doctrine of Necessity, as asserting human volitions and actions to be 
necessary and inevitable. The negative maintains that the will is not 
determined, like other phenomena, by antecedents, but determines itself; 
that our volitions are not, properly speaking, the effects of causes, or at 
least have no causes which they uniformly and implicitly obey.”— Mill's 
Logic , book VI., chap. 2, par. 1. 

“ This (Will-Freedom) is the essential attribute of a will, and 
contained in the very idea, that whatever determines the will, acquires 
this power from a previous determination of the will itself. The will is 
ultimately self-determined, or it is no longer a will under the law of 
perfect freedom, but a nature under the mechanism of cause and effect.” 
— Coleridge, Aids to Reflection, vol. I., p. 227. 

[When the Mindings of Conditions and Ends, favor 
the Spirit-Will of Affection and Sense, the Will is felt to 


27 


Place and Space. 

commencement and termination, but we are conscious to ourselves of 
nothing more clearly, than that it would be equally possible to think 
without thought, as to construe to the miud an absolute commencement, 
or an absolute termination, of time, that is, a beginning and an end, 
beyond which time is conceived as non-existent,. Goad imagination to 
the utmost, it still sinks paralysed within the bounds of time, and time 
survives as tho condition of the thought itself in which we annihilate the 
universe .”—Sir W. Hamilton'sSSthLecture on Metaphysics , ver. 2, p. 371. 



8.—And now again, let it be still further considered, 
how although the Soul's Affection must as an Energy be 
simply a passing out and on, —the Soul itself as Being 
must have its Place ;—and that although the Body's 
Sense must equally as an energy be simply a passing out 
and on, the Body itself as Thing occupies Space ;—and 
it will be understood why Place and Space have been 
represented as the Co-ord inat e . Poles of the . Will of 
Necessity, and how Place, as the Negative Pole, thus lies 
as a mean betwixt the Ideas of En-Souled Affection and 
that of the Instinct of Conditions,—whilst Space, as the 
positive Pole, lies as a mean betwixt the Ideas of an 
Em-bodied Sense and that of the intelligent minding of 
the Ends of its Embodiment. 


The Will of Necessity, or Mind-Will of Man, is in 
fine determined by his Soul-Embodiment, or Body- 


Placo 

and 

Space. 








28 


The Fiest Idea of Man. 


En-Soulment in Place and Space as an inhabitant of his 
Earth, and by that Earth's Place in Space; for the lines 
of direction, and ends of his Affection and Sense, Instinct 
and Intellect, are all laid within these. 

He must mind the necessities or unyieldingness , as 
necessity signifies etymologically, of his surroundings, or 
of the World he lives in, and make the best of them he 
can. His Will of Necessity is pre-eminently his every 
day-working, or Cosmo-logical Will. 

It is no longer his Spirit of Willing that is in question 
here, but his Mind-Will, or the Minding-Will of that 
Spirit;—a Minding-Will which is of Necessity, because 
turning on the one hand in the pole-fixtures of Place,— 
the Place which each one in particular, and Man as a 
Whole, occupies in Space;—and on the other hand, in 
the pole-fixtures of the Universe of Space itself, in the 
fixtures that is, of the eternal and absolute. 

“ I assert, then, that Space is not a notion obtained by experience. 

Idea of Space Experience gives us information concerning things without us: but our 

as the without, apprehending them as without us, takes for granted their existence in 
supposes 

that of Place ®P ace * Experience acquaints us what are the form, position, magnitude 
as the within of particular objects : .but that they have form, position, magnitude, 
presupposes that they are in space. We cannot derive from appearances, 
by the way of observation, the habit of representing things to ourselves 
as in space; for no single act of observation is possible any otherwise 
than by beginning with such a representation, and conceiving objects as 
already existing in space. 


Place and Space. 


29 


Thus the existence of necessary truths, suoh as ‘those of 
geometry, proves that the idea of space from which they flow is not 
derived from experience. Such truths are inconceivable on the 
supposition of their being collected from observation ; for the impressions 
of sense include no evidence of necessity. But we can readily under¬ 
stand the necessary character of such truths, if we conceive that there 
are certain necessary conditions under which alone the mind receives the 
impressions of sense. Since these conditions reside in the constitution 
of the mind, and apply to every perception of an object to which the 
mind can attain, we easily see that their rules must include, not only all 
that has been, but all that can be matter of experience. 

Our sensations can each convey no information except about itself ; 
each can contain no trace of another additional sensation ; and thus no 
relation and connexion between two sensations can be given by the 
sensations themselves. But the mode in which the mind perceives these 
impressions as objects, may and will introduce necessary relations among 
them : and thus by conceiving the idea of space to be a condition of 
perception of the mind, we can conceive the existence of necessary truths, 
which apply to all perceived objects .”—WhewelVs History of Scientific 
Ideas , book 2, chap. II., art. 1 and 3. 

[At commencement of the foregoing, it is stated that 
“ Experience gives us information concerning things 
without us —but our apprehending them as without us , 
takes for granted their existence in Space.” 

Agreed;—but does it not aljBO take for granted our 
own existence—our Soul's or Mind's existence in some 
Place as the within from which that Soul or Mind looks 
out upon Space as the ivithout ? 



30 


The First Idea of Man. 


And again :—“ And thus by conceiving the idea of 
Space to be a condition of perception of the Mind, we 
can conceive the existence of necessary truths, which 
apply to all perceived objects.” 

Agreed;—but must we not also conceive of the Soul 
or Mind as in some Place relatively to that Space, and 
even of that Place as the primary condition ?— Author .] 


END OF THE FIRST IDEA OF MAN. 











t 












“ Now the results of our philosophy are as follows:—We find in the 
internal mechanism of language the exact counterpart of the mental 
phenomena which writers bn pyschology have so carefully collected and 
classified. We find that the structure of human speech is the perfect 
reflex or image of what we know of the organization of the mind: the 
same description, the same arrangement of particulars, the same nomen¬ 
clature would apply to both, and we might turn a treatise on the philo¬ 
sophy of mind into one on the philosophy of language, by merely suppos¬ 
ing that everything said in the former of the thoughts as subjective is 
said again in the latter of the words as objective.”— J. W. Donaldson's New 
Gratylus. B. 1 ; chap. 3; p. 43. 

“ On every track of thought within this region (the metaphysical), the 
human mind goes forward, as if the tendency so to do sprung from its own 
structure, towards Unity. In the process of generalization the mind comes 
to no rest, and does not acquiesce in the result of its labours, until the 
comprehension of many constituent principles, or of a multitude of facts 
has brought them into a single point of view. All Phenomena must be 
reduced to a radial adjustment; they must combine themselves as related 
to a centre. Science confesses itself incomplete until this has been done. 
(P- 85). 

Analytic thought or pure abstraction, pursued to its rudiments, can 
never yield an assurance of truth. 

Assurance of truth must be the product of Connective or Synthetic 
thought when it issues in bringing before us a system of fitness and 
order.”— Taylor's World of Mind, p. 95. 

“ We perceive and know that all the three, viz., things, thoughts, a/nd 
words are distinct; but in every human discussion, nevertheless, they are 
the same in all respects for the purpose of discussion. The word is the 
thought of which we are speaking ; the word is the thing of which we are 
reasoning; and the only thoughts or things that can be discussed or com¬ 
pared by men, are their words for their unknowable thoughts of unknow¬ 
able things. 

Philosophers and mankind, therefore, only deceive themselves and 
others whenever they tbink, or say that they can discuss anything what¬ 
ever but human words. Man is cut off and separated from the world of 
mind, and the world of matter as they are in themselves, and all knowledge 
and all philosophy is only the science of human words; and that Science 
must at all times commence by assuming certain words as common to both 
sides, and as acknowledged and admitted by all who speak and reason.”— 
Haig's Symbolism, p. 183. 






I 














































































































































/ 


































































































. 

























































































































' 


Plate II. 

UPPER SECTION 


THE SECOND IDEA OF MAN. 


THE IDEA OF AFFECTION. 














The Second Idea of Man. 


PLATE II. 

UPPER SECTION. 


THE IDEA OF SOUL-AFFECTION. 


9.—The Spirit of Soul-Affection having been The Family, 
determined (par. 2) as the Self-law-giving-Energy which 
dominates in the First Idea of Man, the further develope- 
ment of that Idea must now proceed by the determination 
of the laws thus given, or what is the same things by the 
determination of the Ideas around which the Spirit of 
Soul-Affection habitually turns; and if we do so, we 
shall find that the Primary or Principal Axis of the 
Spirit of Affection has always been The Family Idea — 
variously conditioned no doubt, and still liable to modifi¬ 
cations—to all such modifications, namely of conditions, as 
the progress of enlightenment in regard to the true 
interests of Man may dictate—but nevertheless, as in the 
past, always persistent, so in the future, to be always 
persistent—in every main feature. 





34 


The Second Idea of Man. 


The 

Family-Idea a 
fundamental 
Law of 

Soul-Affection. 


“ The earliest condition of mankind of which we have any know¬ 
ledge was one of perpetual war.the normal condition 

of men at that time being mutual enmity. To this mutual enmity, 
however, there is an exception established by an imperative law of nature. 
Persons of the same family live in perpetual alliance. This seems to 
have been originally the only tie between man and man, the only con¬ 
sideration that could prevent them murdering each other. . . . Thus 

in the earliest condition of things there was only one kind of community. 
The primitive man had no obligations, no duties, to any except his 
parents, his brothers, and his parents’ brothers and their families. 
When he met with a man unrelated to him he would without hesitation 
take his life and his property. But the life and property of a relation 
was sacred, and the Greeks held that there were certain supernatural 
powers called Erinyes, who vindicated the rights of relatives. This 
sense of relationship being natural and universal, and extending even to 
the brute creation, we cannot imagine a time when the family with its 
rights and obligations did not exist.”— Ecce Homo, chap. XII., p. 120. 

“ As every system must be composed of elements of the same 
nature with itself, the scientific spirit forbids us to regard society as 
composed of individuals. The true social unit is certainly the family ,— 
reduced, if necessary, to the elementary couple which forms its basis. 
This consideration implies more than the physiological truth that families 
become tribes, and tribes become nations : so that the whole human race 
might be conceived of as the gradual developement of a single family, if 
local diversities did not forbid such a supposition. There is a political 
point of view from which also we must consider this elementary idea, 
inasmuch as the family presents the true germ of the characteristics of 
the Social organism. Such a conception is intermediate between the 
idea of the individual and that of the species, or society. There would 
be as many scientific inconveniences in passing it over, in a speculative 



Love and Domesticity. 


35 


sense, as there are dangers in practice in pretending to treat of social life 
without the inevitable preparation of the domestic life. Whatever way 
we look at it, this necessary transition always presents itself, whether in 
regard to elementary notions of fundamental harmony, or for the 
spontaneous rise of social sentiment. It is by this avenue that man 
comes forth from his mere personality, and learns to live in another, 
while obeying his most powerful instincts. No other association can be 
so intimate as this primary combination, which causes a complete fusion 
of two natures in one. 


Thus, notwithstanding the temporary abuse of the family spirit in 
the way of excess, which has occasionally brought reproach on the 
institution, it is, and will ever be, the basis of the social spirit, through 
all the gradual modifications which it may have to undergo in the course 
of the human evolution.”— Comte's Pos. Phil., by Miss Martineau , 
book 6, chap. Y. 

10.—The Ideas of Love (the love of the Sexes) and Love 
Domesticity, or a dwelling together, and the reciprocity of Domes ti c ity. 
services which accompany it, are the Co-ordinate Poles of 
the Family Idea; the former its positive or superior, the 
latter its negative or inferior pole. 


“ The term “ family ” may be defined in various ways. It consists The 

of a head and of dependent members living together in the same dwelling, relationships 

of Sex and 

But the head of a family may be either a husband and wife , a widower, j) omes ^ c ^y 

a widow, a bachelor, or a spinster; and the members may be children, the polar 

relatives, visitors, and servants. constituents 

of Family Life, 

In the Act for taking the Census of 1851, the term “occupier” 
was substituted for the word “ family,” as being less open to miscon¬ 
struction. “ Occupiers,” therefore, represent the “ families ” of previous 




36 


The Second Idea of Man. 


censuses. By this substitution, bachelors and spinsters were not likely 
to escape enumeration as families , which was probably not unfrequently 
the case in former censuses. 

It is so natural that a family should live in a separate house , that 
the term house is often used for family. The isolation of families in 
separate houses is carried to a greater extent in England than elsewhere. 
. . ..... In enumerating the houses, some 

definition of the term was required. “ Flats ” in Glasgow were returned 
as houses in every Census from 1801 to 1841; but in Edinburgh, the 
practice was to return the houses separated by party-walls, without any 
reference to the “flats” which they contained. In 1851, the question 
was carefully considered. The flat in Scotland is generally very different 
from the floor of an ordinary English house, and the holder enjoys all 
the advantages of the holder of a house, except the exclusive command 
of the entrance-hall and stairs. Nevertheless, the definition adopted was 
“isolated dwellings, or dwellings separated by party walls.” 

.The number of families to a house 

varied considerably in different counties, and it is difficult to account for 

all the anomalies which are presented. 

. . . . “ In order to throw some light,” says the Report, 

“ on the constituent parts of families , the returns of 14 sub-districts in 
different parts of the kingdom were analyzed. Of 67,609 families, 41,916 
heads of families were husbands and wives; 10,854 widowers or widows, 
and 14,899 bachelors or spinsters; in 440 cases the head of the family 
was absent from home ; 36,719 heads of families, or more than half, had 
children living with them, and 1020 had apprentices, or assistants in their 
respective trades. Of the 67,609 families, only 3503 or 52 per cent. 
consisted of husband, wife, children, and servants generally considered 
the requisites of domestic felicity; whilst 4874 consisted of man, wife, and 
servants. The heads in 24,180 instances had neither children, relatives, 
visitors, nor servants, like some corporations they might be characterised 


Love and Domesticity. 


37 


as “ sole,” man and wife being considered one; 14,399 families or occupiers 
were either bachelors or spinsters ."—Edward Cheshire's “ Results of 
The Census of Great Britain in 1851.” 

“It is probable that in the chronology of morals, domestic virtue Domesticity 

takes the precedence of all others ; but in its earliest phase it consists of as 

groundwork 

a single article—the duty of absolute submission to the head of the of Family. 

household. It is only at a later period, and when the affections have 

been in some degree evoked, that the reciprocity of duty is felt, and the 

whole tendency of civilisation is to diminish the disparity between the 

different members of the family. The process by which the wife from a 

simple slave becomes the companion and equal of her husband, I shall 

endeavour to trace in a future chapter. The relations of the father to 

his children are profoundly modified by the new position the affections 

assume in education, which in a rude nation rests chiefly upon authority, 

but in a civilised community upon sympathy ..... 

. . .”— Lecky's Histoi'y of European Morals , v. 1, chap. II., p. 315 

“ The most imperfect part of morality under polytheism was the 
domestic. It was, as it were, dropped between the personal and the social 
morality, at a time when they were too directly connected, in consequence 
of the supremacy of political considerations. We shall see presently 
how it is to the immortal honour of Catholicism, that it instituted a sound 
organisation of morality by connecting it chiefly with the life of the 
Family, and making the social virtues depend on the domestic. 

Under Catholicism, domestic morality issued forth from the sub¬ 
jection to polity in which the ancients had placed it, and assumed its 
proper rank. When the spiritual and temporal orders were separated, it 
was felt that the domestic life must henceforth be the most important for 
the mass of mankind—political life being reserved for the exceptional few, 
instead of absorbing everything else, as it did when the question con- 


38 


The Second Idea op Man. 


cerned the minority of free men in a population of slaves. 

• • k 

The influence of the change on domestic life (effected by the 
Industrial movement) has been vast; for it opened that mode of existence 
for the first time to the most numerous class,—there being nothing in the 
condition of slaves or serfs which is Worthy the name of family life. 
Even free men were not before aware of the destination of mankind at 
large for domestic life, and were perpetually drawn from it by the 
tumultuous emotions of the city and the battle-field.”— Comte's Positive 
Philosophy , by Miss Martineau , v. 2, chap. VIII., IX., and XI. 


Politics. ii,—The Family-life of Love and Domesticity, is 

the cradle in which Politics are rocked, for when family 
households so increase in numbers, as to form Villages, 
Towns, and States—a state of minding uncalled for by 
the isolated Family-life, is born and cherished—the state 
of Town or State, or political minding —the necessary out¬ 
growth of increasingly varied relationships and intercourse. 

The Idea of Politics or Political minding must 
therefore be determined as the Secondary Axis of the 
Idea of Soul-Affection, or as the complementary minding 
Axis, of its family Spirit. 


The Idea of 
Politics as a 
state of 
minding , 
which is 
nocessary to 
men’s living 


“ ‘ First, house, then wife, then oxen for the plough,’ says the poet 
Hesiod, as quoted by Aristotle, who then also continues : * That society, 
then, which nature has established for daily support, is a family. . . 

. . . But the society of many families, which was instituted for 
lasting and mutual advantage, is called a village , and a village is most 


as men ought, naturally composed of the emigrant members of one family 





Politics. 


39 


the children and the children’s children.But when many 

villages join themselves perfectly together into one society, that society 
is a state (polls), and contains in itself, if I may so speak, the perfection 
of independence; and it is firstly founded that men may live, but con¬ 
tinued that they may live happily. For which reason every state is the 
work of nature, since the first social ties are such; for to this they all 
tend as to an end, and the nature of a thing is judged by its tendency. 
For what every being is in its perfect state, that certainly is the nature of 
that being, whether it be a man, a horse, or a house; besides, its own 
final cause and its end must be the perfection of anything; but a govern¬ 
ment complete in itself constitutes a final cause and what is best. Hence 
it is evident, that a state is one of the works of nature, and that man is 

naturally a political animal.There is, then, in all persons 

a natural impetus to associate with each other in this mannner. . . 

— Aristotle's Politics and Economies , Bolin's Edition , book 1, chap. II. 

“ Nor was civil society founded merely in order that its members 
might live, but that they might live well .... A state is a society 
of people joining together with their families and their children, to live 

well for the sake of a perfect and independent life.for 

the sake of living well and happily. Tbe political state, therefore, is 
founded not for the purpose of men’s merely living together, but for their 
living as men ought.”— Aristotle's Politics , Bohn's Edition , book 3, 
chap, ix, 

“ If we would picture to ourselves the true notion, which the 
Greeks embodied in the word polls (state), we must lay aside all modem 
ideas respecting the nature and object of a state. With us, practically, 
if not in theory, the essential object of a state hardly embraces more than 
the protection of life and property. The Greeks, on the other hand, had 
the most vivid conception of the state as a whole, or system, every part 
of which was to co-operate towards some great end to which all other 





40 


The Second Idea op Man. 


duties were considered as subordinate. 

In all governments, the endeavour was to draw the social union as close 
as possible ; and it seems to have been with this view, that Aristotle laid 
down a principle, which answered well enough to the accidental circum¬ 
stances of the Grecian states, that a polls must be of a certain size. 
This unity of purpose, marked as it was in all the states of Greece, was 

nowhere so fully carried out as at Sparta.. 

Accordingly, we cannot be surprised to find that in discussing the nature 
of a polis , Aristotle begins with the question, “ What constitutes a 
citizen ? ” . . . He defined a citizen to be one who is a 

partner in the legislative and judicial functions of the state-”— Aristotle's 
Politics , Bohn's Edition , p. 8, note. 

“ . . . . It is important to consider what is implied 

in the fact that Christ placed the happiness of man in a political consti¬ 
tution. The philosophical schemes which we have described Christ as 
rejecting, consider man as an independent being, and provide for him an 
isolated happiness or welfare.”— Ecce Homo , chap, XI., p. 113. 


How Villages, 
Towns, and 
Cities spring 
up and are 
distributed. 


“ Having explained the constitution of families, we will now 
consider the distribution of families in houses over the surface of the 
country, Isolated habitations may be hovels, cottages, farm-houses, 
villas, mansions, palaces, institutions, and the like ; these, when thrown 
into rows, streets, crescents, squares, &c., form villages , toivns , and cities. 

Two general laws appear to operate upon the location of families— 
one tending to their equable diffusion, the other to their condensation 
round certain centres; thus families cluster round a certain point, and 
villages are formed. In conformity with the same law, these villages 
form round other centres, and towns are formed; and these again, at wider 
intervals, round other centres, and cities are formed. 

“ Conceive,” says the Report, “ 58,320 square miles, the area of England 
and Wales, divided into 583 squares, each containing 25 square figures of 


Friendship and Ambition. 


41 


4 square miles ; a market town iii the central square, containing 15,501 
inhabitants, and the 24 similar squares arranged symmetrically around it 
in villages, containing churches and chapels and houses, holding in the 
aggregate 16,000 inhabitants. Now imagine the figures to be of every 
variety of form as well as size, and a clear idea is obtained of the way 
that the ground of the Island has been taken up, and is occupied by the 
population .”—Edward Cheshire's “ Results of the Census of Great Britain 
in 1851.” 


12.—The Love and Domesticity of the Family Idea 
is its internal Life,—Politics its external Life—or that of 
Family and Family. The Political life of the Family 
is therefore a life of interconnexion, or of that intercourse 
and co-operation which belongs to the Idea of Friendship, 
—whilst the due ordering of such interconnexion—or the 
ordering of the conditions in which such intercourse and 
co-operation may most advantageously take place—in such 
manner, namely, as to promote in the greatest degree 
not only the interests of the fundamental Family Life, but 
also those of the joint political Life,—belongs more 
especially to the Idea of Ambition. 

The Ideas of Friendship and Ambition are thus the 
co-ordinate poles of the Idea of Politics—the former its 
comparatively passive, inverse, or negatiye, the latter its 
more active, direct, or positive pole. 


Friendship 

and 

Ambition. 



42 


The Second Idea op Man. 


Friendship 
the Cement of 
Political life. 


“ From the domestic affinities, the transition is a very easy one, to 
that bond of affection which unites friend to friend , and gives rise to an 
order of duties almost equal in force to those of the nearest affinity. 

.Thus lavish has nature been to us, 

of the principles of friendship. With all these causes, that, singly, 
might dispose to cordial intercourse, and that exert in most cases an 
united influence, it is not wonderful that the tendency to friendship of some 
sort should be a part of our mental constitution, almost as essential to it as 
any of our appetites. It is scarcely a metaphor indeed, which we employ, 
when we term it an appetite,— an appetite arising from our very nature as 

social beings ..To take friendship from life, says Cicero, 

would be almost the same thing as to take the sun from the world. It is, 
indeed, the sunshine of those who otherwise would walk in darkness ; it 
beams with unclouded radiance on our moral path, and is itself warmth 
and beauty to the very path along which it invites us to proceed.— Brown's 
Philosophy, 89th Lecture. 


“ Friendship is an incident of Political Society ; men associating 
together for) common ends, become friends. Political justice becomes 
more binding when men are related by friendship. The State itself is a 
community for the sake of advantage; the expedient to all is the just. 
In the large society of the State, there are many inferior societies for 
business and for pleasure : friendship starts up in all. — Bain's Mental and 
Moral Science (Aristotle's Ethics), p. 503. 


Ambition the “ Some ennobling emotions which are of the highest utility in 

dominant and re q a ti 0I i to the welfare and progress of nations must find a place in this 
necessarily 

dominant section.The desire of approbation and ambition , 

element of and the love of power, and the thirst for posthumous fame—these generotis 
Political Life. ^ nl p U i seS) arw q man y varieties of them, connect the individual man with 
his fellows; they give rise to feelings which are reciprocal, and the 
sentiments which thence take their rise are generally of a benign com - 



Friendship and Ambition. 


43 


plexion. *.-... The thirst of applause, the desire of fame, 
the love of power—these, and the many kindred feelings which are 
characteristic of a class of minds—the few, are, in truth, the correlatives 
of those involuntary emotions which impel all men to admire, whatever 
in work, in achievement, in conduct, is indeed worthy of admiration— 
whatever is pre-eminently good, or beautiful, or beneficial. Severe 
moralists, therefore, who would apply lunar caustic to ambition and to the 
love of praise, should begin their work by showing the multitude how they 
may go about to repress the irresistible impulse to admire, and to say 
aloud that they admire what is great—noble; whatever genius has 
imagined and patient assiduity has realized on the field of art, or on the 
stage of public life? ...... Should we not think it a 

preposterous endeavour [to quash admiration in the breasts of men and put 
it to silence ? . . . . . If it be said ‘ give glory to God ’ we 

heartily assent to this religious injunction ; but the man will have nothing 
to give until after he has felt that it is glory which has come into his 
keeping, and which he may now lay upon the altar. 

But if, indeed, we could quash admiration, or if we could interdict 
the utterance of it, or if we could stop the ears of those who labour to 
win it, what will then become of the social system ? To whom are 
communities to look for promoting their advancement ? 

It is thus that an effective achievement of the painful, the dangerous 
—the patience—trying work of the world is provided for and made sure. 
But how much of this enormous task would actually be undertaken, or, 
if undertaken, would ever be completed, if men set themselves to it at 
the impulse of no motives of deeper origin or of greater intensity than 
are those which impel the day labourer to acquit himself of this day’s 

4 

labour ? Scarcely a thousandth part of it, and that fraction poorly done. 

. As to the moralities of ambition , or its immoralities 
. . there is nothing which the most severe teacher could allege in 


r 



44 


The Second Idea of Man. 


Humanity. 


the way of reprehension or of caution which could avail to dislodge from 
its place, in the economy of the social system, this principal element of 
the world of mind. For carrying forward the various purposes, and for 
securing all the interests, of a community that is advanced in civilization, 
there is very much work to be done, for the doing of which no provision 
is made, unless we include that set of motives, affecting a few minds of 
which we are now speaking .... what we now affirm is 
just this—that in the structure and functions of the social system there 
is needed, and there is actually found an impulse, taking effect upon a 
few minds, which will carry the man forward far in advance of every 
other motive, and far in advance of a prudent regard to his individual 
welfare. This we allege to be the very characteristic of genuine ambition 

and of the true desire of power.But has not this 

element of human nature a farther significance ? Does it not point 
forward to another state of things ? He who throws himself into public 
services not merely at the risk, but at the cost of all the things of earth, 
does he not proclaim a truth which speaks of those things which are not 
of earth ?”— Taylor's World of Mind , chap. XIX., par. 712, 736. 


13.—The Family Spirit, or the Self-law-giving Energy 
of Family-Affection and the minding of Politics thus 
inter-cross — and by thus inter-crossing determine the 
idea of Humanity as their common pivot — or as the 
pivotal Will (par. 5) of Soul-Affection,—for the Idea of 
Humanity is simply that of the Life-Nature which belongs 
to a human being, or of that Spirit or Self-law-giving- 
Energy of Family Affection, complemented by a Co¬ 
ordinate Political minding , which together constitute the 



Humanity. 


45 


Moral Sense, or Moral-Will, wliich has ever and anon 
been recognised as the appanage of Man. 

.jnst as the attractions and affinities which are latent in The Law of 

separate atoms, become visible when those atoms are approximated, so Humanity 

the forces that are dormant in the isolated man, are rendered active by S 

J Moral-Sense 

juxtaposition with his fellows. or Moral-Will. 

This consideration, though perhaps needlessly elaborated, has an im¬ 
portant bearing on oar subject. It points out the path we must 
pursue in our search after a true social philosophy. It suggests the 
idea that the Moral law of society, like its other laws, originates in some 

attribute of the human being.It hints that the first 

principle of a code for the right ruling of humanity, in its state of multi¬ 
tude , is to be found in humanity in its state of unitude —that the moral 
forces upon which Social equilibrium depends, are resident in the social 
atom-man, and that if we would understand the nature of those forces, 
and the laws of that equilibrium, we must look for them in the human 

constitution.Answering to each of the actions which it is 

requisite for us to perform, we find some prompter called a desire, and 
the more essential the action, the more powerful is the impulse to its per¬ 
formance, and the more intense the gratification derived therefrom. .... 

May we not, then, reasonably expect to find a like instrumentality em¬ 
ployed in impelling us to that line of conduct, in the due observance of 
which consists what we call morality ? .... or, in other words, 
that we possess a “ Moral Sense,*’ the duty of which is to dictate recti¬ 
tude in our transactions with each other, which receives gratification 
from honest and fair dealing, and jrhich gives birth to the sentiment of 
justice.In truth, none but those committed to a pre¬ 

conceived theory, can fail to recognise on every hand the workings of 
such a faculty. From early times downward there have been constant 
signs of its presence—signs which happily thicken as our own day is 










46 The Second Idea oe Man. 

approached. The articles of Magna Charta embody its protests against 
oppression, and its demands for a better administration of justice. 
Selfdom was abolished partly at its suggestion. It encouraged Wickliffe, 
Huss, Luther, and Knox, in their contests with Popery, and by it were 
Huguenots, Covenanters, Moravians, stimulated to maintain freedom of 
judgment in the teeth of armed Eoclesiasticism. It dictated Milton’s 
“ Essay on the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing.” It piloted the pilgrim 
fathers to the new world. It supported the followers of George Fox under 
fines and imprisonment. And it whispered resistance to the Presbyterian 
clergy of 1662. In tetter days it emitted that tide of feeling which 
undermined and swept away Catholio disabilities. Through the mouths 
of anti-slavery orators, it poured out its fire to the scorching of the 
selfish, to the melting of the good, to our national purification. It was 
its heat, too, which warmed our sympathy for the Poles, and made boil 
our indignation against their oppressor. Pent-up accumulations of it, 
let loose upon a long-standing injustice, generated the effervescence of a 
reform agitation. Out of its growing flame came those sparks by which 
Protectionist theories were exploded, and that light which discovered to 
us the truths of Free-trade. By the passage of its subtle current, is 
that social electrolysis effected, which classes men into parties, which 
separates the nation into its positive and negative—its radical and con¬ 
servative elements. At present it puts on the garb of Anti-State-Church 
Associations, and shows its presence in manifold societies for the exten- 
sion^ of popular power. It builds monuments to political martyrs, 
agitates for the admission of Jews to Parliament, publishes books on the 
rights of women, petitions against class legislation, threatens to rdbel 
against militia conscriptions, refuses to pay church-rates, repeals oppres¬ 
sive debtor acts, laments over the distresses of Italy, and thrills with 
sympathy for the Hungarians. From it, as from a root, spring our 
aspirations after social rectitude ; it blossoms in such expressions as— 
“ Do>s you/would be done by.” “ Honesty is the best policy.” “ Justice 


Humanity. 


47 


before generosity”, and its fruits are “Equity,” “ Freedom,” “ Safety.”— 
Herbert Spencer's “ Social Statics .” Introduction. — The Doctrine of the 
Moral Sense. 

\ 

[The Idea of Humanity embraces whatever Mr. 
Spencer has in the foregoing attributed to a Moral 
Sense, as the celebrated “Homo sum; humani nihil a me 
alienum puto,” would indeed teach. 

“ Skins may differ; but affection 
Dwells in white and black the same.”— Cowper. 

Author .] 

1 “ Or meditate on the use of ‘ humanitas,’ and (in Scotland at least) of 
the ‘ humanities ’ to designate those studies which are deemed the fittest 
for training the true humanity in every man. We have happily overlived 
in England the time when it was still in debate among us, whether edu¬ 
cation were a good thing for every living soul or not; the only question 
which now seriously divides Englishmen being, in what manner that 
mental and moral training, which is society’s debt to each one of its 
members, may be most effectually imparted to him. Were it not so, did 
any affirm still that it was good for any man to be left with powers not 
called out, and faculties untrained, we might appeal to this word 
‘ humanitas,’ and the use to which the Roman put it, in proof that he 
at least was not of this mind, even as now we may not slight the striking 
witness to the truth herein contained. By ‘ humanitas,’ he intended the 
fullest and most harmonious culture of all the human faculties and 
powers. Then, and then only, man was truly man, when he received 
this, in so far as he did not receive this, his ‘ humanity ’ was maimed 
and imperfect; he fell short of his ideal, of that which he was created 
to be.”— Archbishop Trench , “ On the Study of Words.” Lecture 3rd. 






48 


The Second Idea of Man. 


Humanity “ The first method of training this passion (that of humanity), which 

Man s Heart ^rfst employed, was the direct one of making it a point of daty to feel 
of flesh.” 

it. To love one’s neighbour as oneself was, he said, the first and greatest 
law. And in the Sermon on the Mount, he requires the passion to be 
felt in such strength as to inclade those whom we have most reason to 
hate—our enemies and those who maliciously injure us, and delivers an 
imperative precept, ‘ Love your enemies.’ ” 

It has been shown that to do this is not, as might at first appear, in 
the nature of things impossible; bat the farther question suggests itself, 
Can it be done to order ? Has the verb to love really an imperative 
mood? Certainly, to say that we can love at pleasure, and, by a mere 
effort of will, summon up a passion which does not arise of itself, is to 
take up a paradoxical and novel position. Yet, if this position be really 
untenable, how is it possible to obey Christ’s command ? 

The difficulty seems to admit of only one solution. We are not com¬ 
manded to create by an effort of will a feeling of love in ourselves 
which otherwise would have had no existence; the feeling must arise 
naturally , or it cannot arise at all. But a number of causes which are 
removable, may interfere to prevent the feeling from arising , or to stifle it 
as it arises; and we are commanded to remove these hindrances. 
It is natural to man to love his kind, and Christ commands us only to 
give nature play. He does not expect us to procure for ourselves hearts 
of some new supernatural texture, but merely the heart of flesh for the 
heart of stone.— Ecce Homo. “ The Enthusiasm of HumanityChap. 
xiv., p. 147. 


Philanthrophy 14.—But the Idea of Humanity, inasmuch as it 

and . . . 

Patriotism. ori g mates m the inter-crossing of its two-fold elementary 
constituents, or those of the Family Spirit and Political 



Philanthropy and Patriotism. 


49 


Minding , is therefore also of the two-fold mode of Philan¬ 
thropy, and Patriotism; for Philanthropy, inasmuch as it 
embraces in idea all men as of one family, is evidently an 
out-growth of the Family-Spirit, whilst Patriotism on the 
other hand, inasmuch as it only enfolds those as of one 
family, who chance to be within its geographical limits, 
is quite as evidently an out-growth of man's Political- 
Minding. 

The Ideas of Philanthropy and Patriotism, are thus 
the two-fold Co-ordinate modes of the Idea of Humanity, 
the former its more positive or superior and Free-Will 
mode, the latter its comparatively negative and inferior, 
but the Free-WilPs necessary Complement. 


“ The obligation of Philanthropy is for all ages.No The 

man who loves his kind can in these days rest content with waiting as a ^ ora ^ Sense of 

Philanthropy 

servant upon human misery, when it is in so many cases possible to ur g, eg 

anticipate and avert it. Prevention is better than cure, and it is now Improved 

Social 


clear to all that a large part of human suffering is preventible by im¬ 
proved social arrangements. Charity will now, if it be genuine, fix upon 
this enterprise as greater, more widely, and permanently beneficial, and 

therefore more Christian than the other.When the sick 

man has been visited, and everything done which skill and assiduity can do 
to cure him, modern charity will go on to consider the causes of his 
malady, what noxious influence besetting his life, what contempt of the 
laws of health in his diet or habits, may have caused it, and then to 
enquire whether others incur the same dangers and may be warned in 
time. When the starving man has been relieved, modern charity enquires 
whether any fault in the social system deprived him of his share of 


Arrangements 







50 


The Second Idea of Man. 


nature’s bounty, any unjust advantage taken by the strong over the weak 
any rudeness or want of culture in himself wrecking his virtue and his 
habits of thrift. The truth is, that though the morality of Christ is 
theoretically perfect. ..... the practical morality of the first 
Christians has been in a great degree rendered obsolete by the later ex¬ 
perience of mankind, which has taught us to hope more and undertake 

more for the happiness of our fellow creatures.As the 

early Christians learnt that it was not enough to do no harm, and that 
they were bound to give meat to the hungry and clothing to the naked, 
we have learnt that a still further obligation lies upon us, to prevent, if 
possible, the pains of hunger and nakedness from being ever felt.” 

“ Thus the Enthusiasm of Humanity, if it move us in this age to con¬ 
sider the physical needs of our fellow-creatures, will not be contented 
with the rules and methods which satisfied those who first felt its power. 

.When love was waked in his dungeon, and his fetters 

struck off, he must, at first, have found his joints too stiff for motion. 

.We are advanced by eighteen hundred years beyond the 

apostolic generation.Our minds are set free, so that we 

may boldly criticise the usages around us, knowing them to be but imper¬ 
fect essays towards order and happiness, and no divinely or snper- 
naturally ordained constitution which it would be impious to change. 
We have witnessed improvements in physical well-being whichrincline us 
to expect further progress, and make us keen-sighted to detect the evils 
and miseries that remain. The channels of communication between 
nations and their governments are free, so that the thought of the private 
philanthropist may mould a whole community. And, finally, we have at 
our disposal a vast treasure of science, from which we may discover what 
physical well-being is, and on what conditions it depends. In these cir¬ 
cumstances the Gospel precepts of philanthropy become utterly insuffi¬ 
cient. It is not now enough to visit the sick and give alms to the poor. 






Philanthropy and Patriotism. 


51 


We may still use the words as a kind of motto, but we must understand 

them under a multitude of things which they do not express. 

Christ commanded his first followers to heal the sick and give alms ; but 
he commands the Christians of this age, if we may use the expression, 
to investigate the causes of all physical evil, to master the science of 
health, to consider the question of education with a view to health, the 
question of labour with a view to health, the question of trade with a 
view to health; and, while all these investigations are made, with free 
expense of energy, and sense, and means, to work out the re-arrangement 
of human life in accordance with the results they give .”—JEcce Homo , 

“ The Law of Philanthropy ” chap. 17, p. 184, 190 

“ Men naturally group in families .But where many of 

these, families are poor and ignorant, living in bad conditions, robbed of 
their rights by the selfishness of others, cheated by the cunning, 
oppressed by the strong, despised by the prond; society falls into great 
disorders, and becomes a curse instead of a blessing. Wanting the just 
satisfaction of their natural desires for social life and its enjoyments ; 
men seek for substitutes in vicious indulgences, or revenge in crime. It 
is, in many cases, the sting of injustice, the desperation of hopeless 
wrong, that drives men to evil.”— T. S. Nichols's “ Human Physiology .” 

Part 6., chap. 2., page 407. 

.A member of a state is one who has ceased to have a Patriotism 

personal object, and who has made his welfare dependent on that of as the Com- 

others. He sacrifices himself to the body of which he has become a ^ , 

Co-ordinate of 

member. In giving up present pleasure, he does not differ from the Philanthropy. 

isolated man of the philosophers, but he differs from him in giving it up, 

not prudentially that he may get more of it in the end, or something 

better than it, but disinterestedly, and for the sake of other people. It 

is no doubt true that a man’s personal happiness is much increased by 

becoming a member of a community, and having an object apart from 




52 


The Second Idea of Man. 


himself; for, according to the paradox already stated, no man is so happy 
as he who does not aim at happiness. But that such personal happiness 
is not the ultimate object of the social union is plain from this, that men 
are expected to sacrifice not a part of their happiness, but all of it for 
the state, and to die in battle for a cause in which they may have no 
personal interest, and which they may even bold to be unjust. 

Such a disinterested surrender is implied in the very notion of a political 
community .—Ecce Homo, “ The Christian Republic,” Chap. XI., p. 114. 

“ . . . . We cannot imagine a time when the family, with its 
rights and obligations, did not exist. But the family is a community 
which constantly expands until it loses itself in a more comprehensive 
one. It becomes a clan, the members of which may, in many cases, be 
strangers to each other, while they are, notwithstanding, bound together 
by the sacred ties of relationship. Again, in primitive times, when men 
had little power of verifying facts or weighing evidence, relationship was 
often supposed to exist between persons who were really of different 
stocks.Those who spoke the same language were pre¬ 

sumed to be descended from a common ancestor. In this way the family 
passed ultimately into the nation, and political constitutions of law came 
to band men together, grounded all alike on the supposition—true or 
false, that they were relations by blood. When states had once been 
founded, and began to flourish, men began to associate with each other 
more freely; other grounds of obligation, besides blood-relationship 
were gradually admitted, and finally Rome, binding together in the unity 
of common subjection, a number of tribes strange to each other, gave a 
basis of fact and law to universal morality .”—Ecce Homo. Chap. 12. 

p. 122. 



Good-Will and Charity. 


53 


15. — Philanthropy bases itself on Benevolence or Good-Will 
Good-Will , but becomes active in Charity. The Ideas of charity. 
Good-Will and Charity are thus the Co-ordinate Poles of 
the Idea of Philanthropy. The former or Good-Will, its 
comparatively negative or passive Pole, and lying as a 
mean betwixt the Ideas of Friendship and Domesticity; 
the latter its positive, and as already said, more active 
pole, and lying thus as a mean, betwixt the sympathies of 
Love, and the organising and patronising tendencies of 
Ambition. 


“ It has been already shown that Christ raised the feeling of Humanity The Ideas of 

from being a feeble, restraining power, to be an inspiring passion. The ‘Good-Will to 

Christian moral reformation may indeed be summed up in this—humanity ^ en . anC * ,, 

Chanty, as the 

changed from a restraint to a motive.The old legal Con-joint 

formula began “ Thou shalt not.” The new begins with “ Thou shalt.” Supreme 

Humanity, 

The young man who had kept the whole law, that is who had refrained or g n p reme 
from a number of actions, is commanded to do something, to sell his Moral-Sense, 
goods and feed the poor. Condemnation passed under the Mosaic law, 
upon him who had sinned, who had done something forbidden, the soul 
that sinneth shall die. Christ’s condemnation is pronounced upon those 
who had not done good. * I was hungered, and ye gave me no meat.’ 

The sinner whom Christ habitually denounces is he who has done 
nothing. This character comes repeatedly forward in His parables. It 
is the priest and Levite who passed by on the other side. It is Dives, ©f 
whom no ill is recorded, except that a beggar lay at his gate full of sores, 
and yet no man gave unto him. It is the servant who hid in a napkin the 
talent committed to him. It is the unprofitable servant, who has only 
done what it was his duty to do.” 



The Second Idea of Man. 


Party-Spirit 

and 

Public-Spirit. 


54 

“ Putting together these parables delivered at different times, and to 
different audiences, yet all teaching the same doctrine, and adding to 
them the positive exhortations to alms giving, to free and lavish charity , 
we see that Christ’s conception of practical goodness, answers to his 

ideal of a right state of mind.Active morality took its 

place by the side of Passive. To the duty of not doing harm, which may 
be called justice, was added the duty of doing good, which may properly 
receive the distinctively Christian name of Charity.” 

“And this is the meaning of that prediction, which certain Shepherds 
reported to have come to them in a mystic song, heard under the open 
sky of night, proclaiming the commencement of an era of * Good Will to 
Men .’ ”—Ecce Homo . “ Active Morality .” Chap. 16. Passim. 

“ Knowledge puffeth up, but Charity edifieth; though I do speak with 
the tongues of men, and angels, and have not Charity, I am become as 
sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. Charity suffereth long, and is 
kind, Charity envieth not, Charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, 
doth not hehave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily pro¬ 
voked, thinketh no evil. Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the 
truth ; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth 
all things. Charity never faileth, and now abideth faith, hope, charity, 
these three; but the greatest of these is charity.— The New Testament. 


16.—The Ideas of Party-Spirit and Public-Spirit are 
on the other hand the Co-ordinate Poles of the Idea of 
Patriotism. Party-Spirit is the comparatively negative 
or inferior pole, or that root-end of Patriotism which 
lies as a mean betwixt the ties of a limited circle of 
Friendships and the partisanship of Love,—but Public- 




Party-S n kit and Public-Shkit. 55 

Spirit , the more positive or active pole, or the vigorous 
outgrowth, which lies as a mean betwixt the aims of 
Domesticity and Ambition, or betwixt the aims of Domes¬ 
ticity at a well-ordered dwelling-together, and a true 
reciprocity of services, and the aims of Ambition, at a 
similar well-ordering or organising of the Collective or 
Political-Life of Family and Family as the only means 
towards a due and sufficient ordering of each separate 
Family-Life, in its distinctness from all others. 


“ For some centuries before the introduction of Christianity, patriotism Public-Spirit 

was in most countries the presiding moral principle, and religion occupied anc * 

Party-Spirit 

an entirely subordinate position. Almost all those examples of heroic aj3 ^ 

self-sacrifice, of passionate devotion to an unselfish aim, which antiquity Co-ordinate 

affords, were produced by the spirit of patriotism.Poles of 

Patriotism. 

Nor was it only in the great crises of national history that this spirit was 
evoked. The pride of patriotism, the sense of dignity which it inspires, 
the close bond of sympathy produced by a common aim, the energy and 
elasticity of character which are the parents of great enterprises, were 
manifested habitually in the leading nations of antiquity. The spirit of 
patriotism pervaded all classes. It formed a distinct type of character, 
and was the origin both of many virtues, and of many vices. 

If we attempt to estimate the moral condition of such a phase of 
society, we must in some respects place it extremely high. Patriotism 
has always proved the best cordial of humanity, and all the sterner and 
more robust virtues were matured to the highest degree by its power. 


In nations that have been long pervaded by a strong and continuous 
political life, the pulse beats high and steadily, habits of self-reliance are 



56 


The Second IdUa of Man. 


formed, which enable men to confront danger with a calm intrepidity, 
and to retain a certain sobriety of temperament, amid the most trying 
vicissitudes. A capacity for united action, for self-saorifice, for long and 

persevering exertion, becomes general.Never did men 

pass through life with a more majestic dignity, or meet death with a more 
unfaltering calnl. The full sublimity of the old classic type has never 
been reproduced in its perfection, but the Spirit that formed it has often 
breathed over the feverish struggles of modern life, and has infused into 
society a heroism and a fortitude that have proved the invariable pre¬ 
cursors of regeneration.” 


The Idea of 
Public-Spirit 
as a 

Spirit of Be- 
form where 
Beform is 
called for. 


“ To this picture there is, however a melancholy reverse. If the 
Boman civilization exhibited to a very high degree the sterner virtues, it 
was pre-eminently deficient in the gentler ones. The pathos of life was 
habitually repressed. Suffering and weakness met with little sympathy 

or assistance.But perhaps the greatest vice of the old 

form of patriotism was the narrowness of sympathy , which it produced. 
Outside the circle of their own nation, all men were regarded with con¬ 
tempt and indifference, if not with absolute hostility. Conquest was the 
one recognised form of national progress, and the interests of nations 
were, therefore, regarded as directly opposed. The intensity with which 
a man loved his country, was a measure of the hatred which he bore to 
those without it. The enthusiasm which produced the noblest virtues 
in a narrow circle, was the direct and powerful cause of the strongest 
international antipathies.”— Lecky's History of Rationalism. Part II., 
chap, 5., page 100—103. 

“ The citizen, then, is to obey the laws and to defend them. These two 
duties relate to the political system that exists. He has still one other 
great duty, which relates not to things as they are , but to things as they 
may be. He is not to preserve the present system only ; he is to en¬ 
deavour, if it require or admit of amelioration of any sort, to render it 




Party-Spirit and Public-Spirit. 


57 


still more extensively beneficial to those who live under it, and still more 
worthy of the admiration of the world than, with all its excellence, it 
yet may be. 

He is justly counted a benefactor to his nation, who has been able to 
open to its industry, new fields of supply, and to open to the products of 
its industry, new distant markets of commercial demands. He too is a 
benefactor to the community, who plans and obtaias the execution of the 
various public works, that facilitate the intercourse of district with dis¬ 
trict, or give more safety to navigation, or embellish a land with its best 
ornaments, the institutions of Charity or Instruction. In accomplishing, 
or contributing our aid to accomplish these valuable ends, we perform a 
part of the duty which we are considering—the duty of augmenting, to 
the best of our ability, the sum of national happiness. But important as 
such exercises of Public Spirit are, they are not so important as the 
efforts of him, who succeeds in remedying some error in the system of 
government—some error, perhaps, which has been, in its more remote 
influence, the retarding cause, on account of which those very public 
plans, which otherwise might have been carried into effect many ages 
before, were not even conceived as possible, till they were brought for¬ 
ward by that provident wisdom and active zeal, which have obtained, and 
justly obtained, our gratitude.— Brown's Philosophy , 91st Lecture. 


END OP THE IDEA OF SOUL-AFFECTION. 





























' 























































































Plate II. 

lower section. 


the idea of body sense. 














The Second Idea oe Man. 


PLATE II. 

LOWER SECTION. 

THE IDEA OF BODY-SENSE. 

t 


17.— Appetite is the Fundamental Law, or Primary Appetite. 
Axis of the Body-Sense (par. 2). The etymological 

signification of the word, is that of a seeking after - 

and the Idea of Appetite is that of an internal or organic 
and progressively intensifying seeking after that which is 
necessary for the satisfaction of the Body-Sense, in such 
manner, that it only makes itself known to Consciousness, 
through the mindings of Sensation, when the seeking after 
has been intensified to the degree, however slight, of a 
craving or crying out. 







60 


The Second Idea of Man. 


Appetite 
is an organic 
seeking after 
which, when 
sufficiently 
intensified, 
makes its will 
known by the 
cravings or 
cryings out of 
Sensation. 


“ The appetites commonly recognised.are circum¬ 

scribed by the following property, viz., that they are the cravings produced 
by the recurring wants and necessities of our bodily or organic life . . 

. . . if we look at the craving alone without reference to the action 

for appeasing it, that craving is merely what we have all along styled the 
volitional property of the sensation.”— Bain's “ The Senses and the Intel¬ 
lect." B. 1; chap. 3 ; p. 249. 

“ The appetites are a select class of Sensations ; they maybe defined 
as the uneasy feelings produced by the recurring wants or necessities of the 
organic system." — Bain's “ Mental and Moral Science." B. 1; chap. 3 ; 
p. 67. 

[An Appetite cannot be correctly styled a Sensation— 
it only becomes a Sensation when intensified to the mind¬ 
ing degree, and the volitional property to which Mr. Bain 
alludes, belongs rather to^the Appetite or the original 
“ seeking after,” than to the Sensation through which it 
finally craves or cries out, and thus makes itself known. 
Further, how does Mr. Bain’s definition of Appetite as 
an uneasy feeling, agree with the pretty general wish for 
its hearty presence at meal times, or with the equivalent 
regret at its absence ?—Author.] 

Appetite involves volition or action ; now volition demands a motive 
or stimulus ; and the stimulus of Appetite is some Sensation.— Bain's 
“ Mental and Moral Science." B. 1; chap. 3 ; p. 67. 

[To say that “the stimulus of Appetite is some 
Sensation,” is surely a putting of the cart before the 


Appetite. 


01 


horse. Thus we speak of the sensation of hunger —that 
is of the sensation produced by an intensified appetite, or 
an intensified organic seelcing after, or will of food; and 
we do not speak of the hunger of sensation, as the above 
would intimate that we do*— Author.] 

“ Even in the absence of external stimuli, there are the stimuli from 
the viscera, and especially from the alimentary canal : an empty stomach 
eventually sends to the cerebro-spinal system enough disturbance to end 
the quiescent state.”— Herbert Spencer's Principles of Psychology. V. 1; 

part 1; chap. 5 ; page 37. 

[Read. —An empty Stomach's Appetite or seeking 
after its necessary food, eventually sends to the cerebro¬ 
spinal system enough disturbance or Sensational Craving 
to end the quiescent state.— Author.] 

% 

“We contend that, as appetite is a good guide to all the lower crea- Appetite 

tion, as it is a good guide to the infant, as it is a good guide to the as ^he 

fundamental 

invalid, as it is a good guide to the differently-placed races of men, and j^ aw 
as it is a good guide for every adult who leads a healthful life ; it may Body-Sense 
safely be inferred that it is a good guide for childhood. Jt would be 

strange, indeed, were it here alone untrustworthy. 

Consider the ordinary tastes and ordinary treatment of children. The 
love of sweets is conspicuous, and almost universal among them. 

Probably ninety-nine people in a hundred presume that there is nothing 
more in this than the gratification of the palate ; and that, in common 
with other sensual desires it should be discouraged. The physiologist, 
however, whose discoveries lead him to an ever-increasing reverence for 
the arrangements of things, will suspect that there is something more in 



Smell 

aiid 

Taste. 


62 The Second Idea of Man. 

this love of sweets than the current hypothesis supposes; and a little 
inquiry confirms the suspicion. Any work on organic chemistry shows 
that sugar plays an important part in the vital processes. Both saccharine 
and fatty matters are eventually oxidized in the body; and there is an 

accompanying evolution of heat.Now, when to the fact 

that children have a marked desire for this valuable heat-food, we join 
the fact that they have usually a marked dislike to that food which gives 
out the ?greatest amount of heat during its oxidation (namely, fat), we 
shall see strong reason for thinking that excess of the one compensates 
for the other, that the organism demands more sugar, because it cannot 
deal with much fat .”—Herbert Spencer on Education. Ch. 4; p. 227. 

[Remark here in connexion with the preceding 
criticisms, how it is the organism that demands, seeks 
after , or wills the sugar, and therefore craves or cries out 
for it through the pleasurable sensations of sweetness.— 
Author.] 


18.—The Senses of Smell and Taste are the Co¬ 
ordinate Poles or Concurrent Servitors of the law-given 
Energies of Appetite. They conjointly urge it to, and 
assist it in, the partaking of whatever is necessary to the 
sustenance and enjoyments of the Body-Sense; and sit 
in judgment upon the sufficiency of the supplies as to 
quality and quantity—for Appetite even sickens and dies 
when Smell or Taste are too much dissatisfied. 





Smell and Taste. 


63 


“It is remarked that bodies believed to have a strong taste, have Smell & Taste 

often in reality only an odour, of which Cinnamon is the common as 

Co-ordinato 

instance. Perhaps, too, in wine a large part of the effect in the mouth is p 0 j eg 0 f 

in the Smell. Hence the ambiguous term flavour, which is applied to Appetite, with 

solid and liquid substances, means most frequently the odour, or the as ^e 

positive Pole 

mixed effect of taste and odour. or j n 

Smell, like Taste, is an important instrument in the discrimination of dominance, 
material bodies, and therefore serves a high function in guiding our 
actions and in extending our knowledge of the world.”— Bain's “ The 
Senses and the Intellect .” B. 1; chap. 2 ; p. 170. 

“ A considerable part of the impression produced by many substances 
is received through the Sense of Smell, rather than by that of Taste.”— 

Carpenter's Animal Physiology. Chap, xi., par. 501. 

“- Taste and Smell are so blended, that odours are received as 

flavours. If a man holds his nose tightly, and shuts his eyes, he cannot, 
by tasting, distinguish brandy, gin, whiskey, and rum from each other. 

The moment the odour is permitted to enter the nose, the taste of each 
becomes perfectly distinct.”— T. L. Nichols's “ Human Physiology .”— 

Part 3; chap. 3 ; p. 183. 

The uses of taste in warning us from danger are evident. But every 
natural function is attended with pleasure. All food natural and proper 
for man gives him delight through the sense of taste. The taste, how¬ 
ever, in men, and even in some animals, may be educated and perverted. 

We learn to like things which were at first nauseous and disgusting to us. 

Men smoke and even chew tobacco. The excessive use of spices and 
condiments blunts the sensibility of the nerves of taste, and the corrupted 
sentinel lets the enemy pass into the stomach, and worry it into dyspepsia, 
while the whole current of the blood becomes tainted with the morbid 
products of an unnatural nutrition. All animals in a state of nature, 





The Second Idea of Man. 


64 

seem able to choose their proper food, and to avoid poisons. 

. . The Sense of Smell not only guards the mouth and forbids the in¬ 

troduction of untit food, putrid, nauseous, or acrid matters, but it guards 
’still more, perhaps, the lungs from inhaling foul or poisoned air. It 
warns us against entering crowded and ill-ventilated rooms, breathing 
noxious gases, inhaling the odours of putrifying substances, &o. 

.Strong perfume, snuff, and tobacco smoke, injure this 

sense and its protective powers. If our senses were in their natural 
condition, we should probably be able to avoid nearly all thejcauses of 
disease in malarias and contagions.’’—T. L. Nichols's “ Human Physi¬ 
ology." Part 3 ; chap. 3 ; pp. 184, 185. 


Analogical 
inter-con¬ 
nexions of the 
respectively 
positive and 
negative poles 
of Appetite 
and 

The Family. 


“ Sympathy and antipathy are alike generated by odours. The in¬ 
fluence of odours upon the voluptuous tender emotions has not escaped 

the notice of the poets. " — Bain's “ The Senses and the 

Intellect.'' B. 1; chap. 2; p. 169. 

* 

“ The pleasures of the sense of taste , in the moderate enjoyment of 
which there is nothing reprehensible, are, in a peculiar manner, associated 
with family happiness. To have met frequently at the same board is no 
small part of many of the delightful remembrances of friendship; and to 


meet again at the same board, after years of absence, is a pleasure that 
almost makes atonement for the long and dreary interval between. In 


some half-civilized countries, in which the influence of simple feelings of 
this kind is at once more forcible in itself, and less obscured in the con¬ 


fusion of ever varying frivolities and fashion, this hospitable bond forms, 
as you well know, one of the strongest ties of mutual obligation, suffi¬ 
cient often to check the impetuosity of vindictive passions which no other 


remembrance could, in the moment of fury, restrain. Had there been no 
pleasure attached to a repast, independent from the mere relief from the 
pain of hunger, the course of equal food would probably have been taken 





Sensation. 


65 


by each individual apart , and might even, like our other animal necessi¬ 
ties, have been associated with feelings which would have rendered 
solitude a duty of external decorum. It would not be easy, even for 
those who have been accustomed to trace a simple cause through all its 
remotest operations, to say how much of happiness, and how much even 
of the warm tenderness of virtue, would be destroyed by the change of 
manners, which should simply put an end to the social meal ; that meal 
which now calls all the members of a family to suspend their cares for a 
while, and to enjoy that cheerfulness which is best reflected from others, 
and which can be permanent only when it is so reflected, from soul to 
soul , and from eye to eye''' — Brown's Philosophy , 20 th Lecture. 


19.—The Body-Sense Law of Appetite, in conjunc- Sensation, 
tion with its Co-ordinate polarities of Smell and Taste, 
are complemented by the minding of Sensation. For to 
| permit of a successful seeking after, there must be a 
complementary minding ; a minding and re-minding of 
the cravings or cryings out of the internal Appetite, when 
sufficiently intense, and of its connexions with the ex¬ 
ternal ; and what we term Sensation is such a minding 
and re-minding, and determines it as the Secondary Axis 
of the Body-Sense, or as the Co-ordinate minding Axis 
of the spirit calls of Appetite, and thus also as a link 
betwixt the internal and external. 







66 


The Second Idea oe Man. 


Sensation 
as the 
Co-ordinate 
Axis, or 
Complemen¬ 
tary minding 
of the 
Body-Sense 
Spirit of 
Seeking-after. 


“.the connexion of Appetite with Sensation is so 

close, that the one will be found to tread on the heels of the other.”— 
Bain's “ The Senses and the Intellect." B. 1 ; p. 65. 

“By sensations we understand the mental impressions, feelings or 
states of consciousness resulting from the action of external things on 

some part of the body.Such are the feelings caused by 

tastes or smells, sounds or sights.”— Bain's “ The Senses and the In¬ 


tellect." B. 1; chap. 2 ; p. 117. 


[Why limit the Idea of 'Sensation to the Conscious¬ 
ness resulting from the action of external things, if its 
connexion with Appetite is as close as stated in the imme¬ 
diately preceding paragraph ? Appetite is surely not an 
action upon us from without? The true definition of 
Sensation seems to be simply tliis—the Body-Sense in its 
state of Self -minding, and therefore also in its state of 
Uniting the within with the without. —Author.] 


The earliest sign by which the Ego becomes perceptible is the 
corporeal sensation. 

“ Without this general innate sensation we should not possess the 
certainty that our body is our body ; for it is as- much an object for the 
other senses as anything else that we can see, hear, taste, or feel. This 
original general innate sensation is necessary to the existence of all other 
particular sensations, and may exist independently of the nervous 

system.The light, by means of which we see, acts not 

only on the visual nerves, but also on the fluids of the eye, and the 
sensations of sight partly depend on the structure of the eye. This sensi¬ 
bility, therefore, appears to be a necessary attribute of animated organic 
matter itself. 





Sensation. 


67 


** All the perceptions of sense are rooted in the general sensation. 
The child must be conscious of his senses before he applies them. This 
sensation , however, is very obscure ; even pain is not clearly felt by it at 
the place where it exists. Equally obscure is the notion which it enter¬ 
tains of an object. Though Brach, therefore, is right in ascribing some 
thing objective, even to the general sensation , since conditions cannot 
communicate themselves, without communicating (though ever so 
obscurely) something of that which produces the condition—nay, strictly 
speaking, as even in the idea ‘ subject^’ that of an ‘ object ’ is involved, 
yet it is advisable to abide by the distinction founded by Kant, according 
to which by innate sensation , we especially perceive our own personality 
(subject), and by the senses we especially perceive objects, and thus in 
the ascending line, feeling, taste, smell, hearing, and sight. 

“ The next step from this obscure original innate sensation is parti¬ 
cular sensation through the medium of the nervous system, which, in its 
more profound, and yet more obscure sphere, produces common sensa¬ 
tion, and, in a higher manifestation, the perceptions of the senses.”— 
Feuchtersleben, Medical Psychology , 1847, p. 83. 

“ Sensation properly expresses that change in the state of mind which 
is produced by an impression upon an organ of sense (of which change 
we can conceive the mind to be conscious without any knowledge of 
external objects).”— Fleming's Vocabulary of Philosophy. 

“ Proceeding upon the inference before drawn, that when a wave of 
disturbance brought by an afferent nerve to a spinal centre, liberates a 
quantity of molecular motion, a portion of it, not discharged along the 
efferent nerves, is propagated through a centripetal nerve to a higher 
centre, we may conclude that it is this portion which comes, in the 
higher centre, to have a subjective aspect as sensation : 'being there joined 
with other sensations and feelings of other orders into a chain of states of 





68 


The Second Idea of Man, 


consciousness , out of which no sensation is ever known to exist. For 
recognition of a sensation as such or such, necessitates the bringing of it 
into relation with the continuous series of sentient states, from some of 
which, simultaneously experienced, it is dissociated by perceived unlike¬ 
ness, and the implied comparisons of sentient states are impossible unless 
the correlative nervous changes are put in connexion at one place.’ ’— 
Herbert Spencer's Principles of Psychology. —V. 1; p. 1; chap. 6, 
par. 43. 


/ 


Hearing 

and 

Sight. 


20. —Hearing and Sight are the Co-ordinate poleg^ 
of Sensation in its minding of the external, on behalf of 
the internal, as the Co-adjutor of Appetite. Hearing is 
its comparatively negative or passive pole, and stands 
thus analogically in intimate connection with the Idea of 
Friendship (par. 2), and its intercourse; whereas Sight as 
the positive and more continuously active pole, stands 
thus also analogically in more intimate relationship, with 
the order , the decorations, the pageantry, and blazonry, of 
Ambition (par. 12). Hearing and Sight thence not only 
sub-serve the Body-Sense, but also the Soul-Affections, 
and all the Spirit-mindings and re-mindings bound up 
with both. 


Sight and 
Hearing as 
Co-ordinate 
Poles and in 
Contrast with 
Smell and 
laste. 


“ I cannot apply the question of the existence of contrasts of taste 
and smell without remarking the extreme difference that exists between 
these senses on the one part, and seeing and hearing on the other. In all 
the perceptions of the two former, there is the contact of savoury and 
odorous bodies with the organ; that is to say, always a physical, and 
frequently a chemical action ; while, in the perception of colours and of 







Hearing and Sight. 69 

sounds, there is never a chemical action; it is a simple impression that 
the eye receives from the light,—it is a simple vibration that the ear 
receives from the sonorous body.”— Chevreuil on Colour. Part 3 ; sect. 

4; p. 391. 

“ We ought not to pass over the luminous distinction introduced by 
Gall between the passive and the active states of each special sense. An 
analogous consideration to this, but more fundamental, would consist, it 
seems to me, in distinguishing the senses themselves as active and pas¬ 
sive, according as their action is, from their nature, voluntary or in¬ 
voluntary. 

“ This distinction seems very marked in the case of Sight and 
Hearing; the one requiring our free participation, to a certain extent, 
while the other affects us without our will, or even our consciousness. 

The more vague, but more profound, influence that music has over us, 
than we receive from painting, seems to be chiefly attributable to such a 
discovery. An analogous difference, but less marked, exists between 
Taste and Smell.”— Comte's Pos. Philosophy, by Miss Martineau. B. 

5 ; chap, 5 ; p. 452. 

“ Sight is the highest, the finest, the most perfect of the Senses, an( j 

We hear by atmospheric vibrations, but we see by infinitely finer vibra- Hearing as 

tions of the luminiferous ether which pervades all space. We can hear P ositive ancl 

negative Poles 

only sounds coming from a moderate distance, a few miles ; we see, or 
receive the impressions of light vibrations which come thousand of mil¬ 
lions of miles. These vibrations, excited by the action of some force in 
sun and stars, reflected by all the objects around us, break in waves of 
light upon the spread-out nerves of vision, as the atmospheric sound 
waves break upon the nerves of hearing. And by means of wonderfully 
designed and constructed instruments, and nerves, and brain, the sentinel 
soul within them all hears and sees. But who can doubt that there is a 




70 The Second Idea oe Man. 

spiritual ear living in the material ear—a spiritual eye which formed and 
makes use of the wonderful organ of vision?— T. L. Nichols's “ Human 
Physiology Part 3 ; chap. 14 and 192. 


Sight and 
Hearing as 
minding 
processes. 


“ In the Senses as thus made up (the Five Senses), it is useful to 
remark a division into two classes, according to their importance in the 
operations of the Intellect. If we examine the Sensations of Organic 
Life, Taste and Smell, we shall find that, as regards pleasure and pain, 
or in the point of view of Feeling, they are of great consequence, but 
that they contribute little of the permanent forms and imagery em¬ 
ployed in our Intellectual processes. This last function is mainly served 
by Touch, Hearing, and Sight, which may therefore be called the Intel¬ 
lectual Senses by pre-eminence. They are not, however, thereby pre¬ 
vented from serving the other functions, or from entering into the 
pleasures and pains of our emotional life.”— Bain's “ Mental and Moral 
Science .” B. 1; chap. 2. 


“It is in the sense of Hearing first , and next in order, as we shall 
have occasion to show, in the sense of Sight, that the union of mind with 
the animal organization, or the corporeal condition of mind, yields an 
advantage on the side of mind as opposed to animal tendencies. This is 
a fact which deserves attention.” Taylor's World of Mind , par. 747. 

[This last seems to intimate that the Sense of 
Hearing yields the greater advantage on the side of 
Mind as compared with Sight. Bnt if so, how happens 
it that we hear much which we only understand when we 
also, in vulgar phrase, see it ? Is not seeing also, as opposed 
to mere hearing, believing ? Further, do the eyes or the 
ears profit the studious man most ? What has hearing in 
comparison with sight to do with Books and the great 


Touch, 


71 


majority of Philosophical instruments ? And, as regards 
the influences of music, are they not altogether propor¬ 
tioned, in as far as any minding-sense is concerned, to the 
images or visions the music raises ?— ‘Author.] 


21.—Touch is the Pivotal Body-Sense, for wherever Touch, 
there is Appetite and Sensation, there also is Touch in 
some guise. Touch must in fact be understood as the 
sum total of the bodily organic or Sense forces, or activi¬ 
ties, or as their common working centre. We must look 
upon it as here represented, not only as the sense by 
which we manipulate the external, and form and reform 
the material things of use, but likewise as the sense, by 
which we ourselves are manipulated internally, by which 
our bones, and muscles, and nerves, and members, are 
formed, transformed, and wonderfully shaped, even for 
their respective uses and purposes. It is therefore also 
to the Idea of Sense, that which the Idea of Humanity 
(par. 13), is to Affection, and thus stands by analogy of 
position in intimate relations with it, as shown even in 
our every day language, of being deeply touched by the 
appeals of suffering, unless indeed we have not a touch of 
Humanity in us ! 
















72 


The Second Idea of Man. 


Touch as the 
Pivotal 
Body-Sense or 
as its working 
Centre or 
Centro of 
Activity and 
Motion. 


“ The problems which arise under this sense may bo reduced to two 
opposite questions. The first asks, may not all the senses be analysed 
into Touch ? The second asks, is not Touch or feeling considered as 
one of the five senses, itself only a bundle of various senses ? In regard 
to the first of these questions,—it is an opinion as old at least as Demo¬ 
critus, and one held by many of the ancient physiologists, that the four 


senses of Sight, Hearing, Taste, and Smell, are only modifications of 
Touch.” 


******** 

The determination of the first problem does not interfere with the con¬ 
sideration of the socond; for in the second, it is only asked whether, 
considering Touch or Feeling as a special sense, there are not compre¬ 
hended under it varieties of perception and sensation so different, that 
these varieties ought to be viewed as constituting so many special senses. 
This question, I think, ought to be'answered in the affirmative . . . 

. . it may easily, I think, be shown, that, if Sight and Hearing, if 

Smell and Taste, are to be divided from each other and from Touch 
Proper, under Touch there must, on the same analogy, be distinguished 
^ a plurality of separate senses. This problem, like the other, is of ancient 
date .”—Sir W. Hamilton's 27£7i Lecture on Metaphysics. 

“ Physiologists in describing the senses not unusually commence 
with Touch. This, say Messrs. Todd and Bowman, is the simplest and 
most rudimentary of all the special senses, and may be considered as an 
exalted form of common sensation, from which it rises, by imperceptible 
gradations, to its state of highest development in some particular parts. 
It has its seat in the whole of the skin, .and in certain mucous mem¬ 
branes, as that of the mouth, and is therefore the sense most generally 
diffused over the body. It is also that which exists most extensively in 
the animal kingdom ; being, probably, never absent in any species. It is 
besides the earliest called into operation, and the least complicated in 





Touch. 


73 


its impressions and mechanisms.” 

“ It may be further said of Touch, that the mode of action (mechan- 
ical contact or pressure), is the most simple and intelligible of any that 
we find giving rise to Sensation. Nevertheless, there is one consideration 
that has prevailed with me in giving it a place J subsequent to organic 
sensibility, Taste and Smell. Touch is an intellectual sense of a far 
higher order than these. It is not merely a knowledge-giving sense, as 
they all are, but a source of Ideas and conceptions of the kind that 
remain in the Intellect, and embrace the outer world. The notions of 
the size, shape, direction, distances, and situation of external bodies may 
be acquired by touch, but not by either taste or smell. 

But this last assertion must be accompanied by an important explan¬ 
ation. Touch, considered as a source of ideas such as those, is really 
not a simple sense, but a compound of sense and motion , and it is to the 
muscular part of the sense, or to the movements of the touching organs 
that these conceptions owe their origin and their embodiment, as we have 

endeavoured to show in the previous chapter.The contact 

of solid bodies with the surface of the body gives occasion to the exercise 
of movement, force, and resistance, and to the feelings and perceptions 
consequent on these; which cannot be said of smell, nor of taste pro¬ 
perly so called.— Bain's “ The Senses and the Intellect B. 1: chap. 2 ; 
p. 171. 

“ When the kitten plays with a worsted ball, we always attribute the 
overflowing fulness of moving energy to the creature’s own inward stim¬ 
ulus, to which the ball merely serves for a pretext. So an active young 
hound refreshed by sleep, or rested by confinement, pants for being let 
loose, not because of anything that attracts his view or kindles up his 
ear, but because a rush of activity courses through his members, render¬ 
ing him uneasy till the confined energy has found vent in a chase or a 







74 The Second Idea op Man. 

run. We are at no loss to distinguish this kind of activity from that 
awakened by sensation or emotion, and the distinction is accordingly 
recognised in the modes of interpreting the movements and feelings of 
animals. When a rider speaks of his horse as ‘ fresh,’ he implies that 
the natural activity is undischarged, and pressing for vent; the excite¬ 
ment caused by mixing in a chase or in a battle, is a totally different 
thing from the spontaneous vehemence of a full-fed and underworked 
animal. 

It is customary in like manner to attribute much of the activity of 
early human life, neither to sensation nor to emotion, but to * freshness/ 
or the current of undischarged activity. There are moments when high 
health, natural vigour, and spontaneous outpouring, are the only obvious 
antecedents of ebullient activity. The very necessity of bodily exercise 
felt by everyone, and most of all by the young, is a proof of the existence 
of a fund of energy that comes round with the day, and presses to be 
discharged. 

. 

Coupling together, therefore, the initial movements of infancy, the 
inability of earlj years generally, the observations on. young and active 
members of the brute creation, and the craving for exercise universally 
manifested, we have a strong body of evidence in favour of the doctrine 
of spontaneons action.— Bain's “ The Senses and the Intellect .” B. 1; 
chap. 1 and 5. 

[It is questionable whether the play of the kitten, 
the run of the young hound,, the bounding of the 
restrained horse, and the capricious movements of infancy 
do not all belong to the emotional mode of Touch as ex¬ 
plained in the next paragraph.— Author.] 



Emotion and Feeling. 


75 


22.—The Co-ordinate Modes of the Pivotal Touch, in Emotion 

and 

correspondence with, its two-fold elementary constituents, Feeling, 
are Emotion and Feeling. Emotion, the Free-Will Mode 
of Touch, or its external manifestations in intimate con¬ 
nection with the spirit of Appetite; and Feeling, its Will 
of Necessity, or its internal manifestations in more in¬ 
timate connexion with the minding of Sensation. 

“ Emotion (emoveo , to move out), is often used as synonymous with Emotion and 

feeling. Strictly taken, it means a ‘ state of feeling which, while it does as 

Co-ordinate 

not spring from an affection of body, manifests its existence and character ]y[ 0( i eg 0 f 
by some sensible effect upon the body.’ ”— Fleming's Vocabulary of Touch. 
Philosophy. 

“ Through the Touch also we receive pleasures that seem to go much 
deeper than the forms and surfaces of objects. Our graspings of hands, 
strokings, caresses, kisses, are all exercises of the Sense of Touch, or at 
least complicated with it. We show our affection, and we enjoy its mani¬ 
festations, by contact with those who are pleasant to us.”. 

— T. L. Nicholas'\ “ Human Physiology .” Part 3 ; chap. 3 ; p. 183. 

“Tenderness is a pleasurable emotion, variously stimulated, whose 
eflect is to draw human beings into mutual embrace.”— Bain's “ Mental 
and Moral Philosophy." B. 1 ; chap. 1 ; p. 1. 

“ No doubt as affection is a pleasurable Sensation, it generally 
causes a gentle smile and some brightening of the eyes. A strong desire 
to touch the beloved person is commonly felt; and love is expressed by 
this means more plainly than by any other. Hence we long to clasp in 
our arms those whom we tenderly love. We probably owe this desire to 
inherited habit, in association with the nursing and tending of our 
children, and with the mutual caresses of lovers. 







Emotion as 

connected 

with 

Appetite. 


76 The Second Idea op Man. 

With the lower animals we see the same principle of pleasure 
derived from contact in association with love. Dogs and cats manifestly 
take pleasure in rubbing against their masters and mistresses, and in 
being rubbed or patted by them. Many kinds of monkeys, as I am 
assured by the keepers in the Zoological Gardens, delight in fondling 
and being fondled by each other, and by persons to whom they are 

attached.”. Darwin's “ Expression of the Emotions." 

Chap. 8 ; p. 215. 

Feeling.— “ This word has two meanings. First , it signifies the 
perceptions we have of external objects, by the sense of touch. When 
we speak of feeling a body to be hard or soft, or rough or smooth, hot or 
cold, to feel these things is to perceive them by touch. They are external 
things, and that act of the 1 * mind by which we feel them is easily dis¬ 
tinguished from the objects felt. Secondly , the word feeling is used to 
signify the same thing as sensation , and in this sense, it has no object; 
the feeling and the thing felt are the one and the same.” Reid's “ In¬ 
tellectual Rowers." Essay 1; chap. 1. 

“ By the sense of touch we receive sensations of heat, cold, and an 
agreeable, exhilarating, or uncomfortable and depressing state of the at¬ 
mosphere, perhaps its electrical condition; of the qualities of the bodies 
with which we come into contact, as being gaseous, liquid, solid, hard, 
soft, rough, smooth, sticky, slimy; of the forms of bodies, and the tex¬ 
ture and qualities which we cannot so well judge by sight. People judge 
of silk, woollen and cotton textures, the edges of cutting instruments, 
and many things, by feeling better than by sight.”— T. L. Nichols's 
‘ Human Physiology." Part 1; chap. 3; p, 181. 

“ The feelings called sensations have alone been considered thus far; 
leaving out of view the feelings distinguished as emotions. Much less 
definite as they are, and not capable of being made at will the objects of 



Emotion and Feeling. 


77 


observation and experiment, the emotions are more difficult to deal with. 
But having discerned certain general laws to which the simpler feelings 
conform, we may now ask whether, so far as we can see, they are con¬ 
formed to by the more complex feelings. We shall find that they 
are. 

The conditions essential to the one are essential to the other. Emo¬ 
tions, like sensations, may be increased or decreased in intensity by 
altering either the quantity or quality of the blood. That general abun¬ 
dance of blood is a cause of emotional exaltation, although tolerably 
certain, is not easily proved; but there is sufficient evidence of the 
converse fact that, other things equal, depletion is a cause of apathy. 
The effect of local abundance of blood is undoubted: there is no question 
that, within limits, the amount of emotion varies as the amount of blood 
supplied to the great nervous centres. That nervous stimulants intensify 
the emotions, or, as we say, raise the spirits, is even more manifest 
than that they make the sensations keener. And it is a familiar truth 
that sedatives diminish what is distinguished as moral pain, in the same 
way that they diminish pain arising in the trunk or limbs. 

That a feeling lasts an appreciable time, is no less true of an emotion 
than of a sensation: indeed the persistence is relatively conspicuous. 
The state of consciousness produced by a flash of lightning, is so brief as 
to seem instantaneous ; only by the help of artificial tests are sensations 
of this kind, found to have measurable durations. But no such tests are 
needed to prove that emotions continue through appreciable periods. 
Even a simple emotion, as of anger or fear, does not reach its full 
strength the moment the cause presents itself; and after the cause is 
removed, it takes some time to die away. When hereafter we deal with 
the origin of emotions, and recognise the fact that they are of far more 
involved natures than sensations, and imply the co-operation of ex¬ 
tremely intricate nervous structures, we shall understand how this 
greater duration is necessitated. 




78 


The Second Idea of Man. 


That an emotion, like a sensation, leaves behind it a temporary in¬ 
capacity, is also true; and as the emotion produced by a momentary 
cause lasts longer than a sensation produced by a momentary cause, so 
does the partial incapacity for a like emotion last longer than a partial 
incapacity for a like sensation.As in the case of the sen¬ 

sations, so in the case of the emotions, this follows from the fact that 
what is objectively a nervous action and subjectively a feeling, involves 
waste of the nervous structures concerned. The centres which are the 
seats of emotions undergo dis-integration in the genesis of emotions ; 
and other things remaining equal, thereupon become less capable of 
generating emotions until they are re-integrated. I say, other things 
remaining equal, because the rise of an emotion brings blood to the parts 
implicated, and so long as the afflux is increasing, the intensity of the 
motion may increase, notwithstanding the waste that has taken place ; 
but the several conditions on which activity depends having become con¬ 
stant, a diminished capacity for emotion inevitably follows each gush of 
emotion. 

That daily rises and falls of strength, consequent on daily periodi¬ 
cities of waste and repair, occur in the emotions as in the sensations, is 

also tolerably manifest. 

These complex feelings that are centrally initiated, are also like the simple 
feelings that are peripherally initiated, in having general discharges as 
well as special discharges : indeed their general discharges are the more 
conspicuous of the two. A sensation is often visibly followed only by 
local movement: unless very strong its effect on the organism as a whole 
is unobtrusive. But an emotion, besides the more obvious changes it 
works in the muscles of the face, habitually works changes, external and 
internal, throughout the body at large. The respiration, the circulation, 
the digestion, as well as the attitudes and movements, are influenced by 
it even when moderate ; and every one knows how strong passions, 




Impressibility and Susceptibility. 


79 


pleasurable or painful, profoundly disturb the whole system.”— Herbert 
Spencer's “ Principles of Psychology." Parti; chap. 5, p. 48. 

“ Touch is not only diffused over the whole surface of the body, but Feeling as the? 

a sort of touch, or feeling of pleasure and pain, may be felt in the deep- Necessity 

Sensation, or 

seated regions of the viscera, for we feel not only in our mouths, but vaguely ag j nneror 

in our throats, stomachs, and intestines. And there seems to be no Organic 

reason tfhy we should not refer to this sense, the comfortable and Sensation °* 

Touch. 

pleasant feeling we have in the use of our muscles when we exercise with 
vigour, and the langour of fatigue, or the pain of inward maladies. An 
inner ache of rheumatism, or gout, affects the nerves much like an ex¬ 
ternal pinch or smart. If they do not belong to touch, we cannot exclude 
them from the sense of feeling.”— T. L. Nichols's “ Human Physiology 
Part 3 ; chap. 3; p. 183. 


23. —The Co-ordinate Poles of Emotion are Impress!- impressibility 
bility and Susceptibility. Impressibility as the positive Suace p^ ility 
pole thus also lies as a mean betwixt the Senses of Smell 
and Sight; whilst Susceptibility as the negative pole, 
lies in the same way, as a mean betwixt the Senses of 
Taste and Hearing. 

“ The meaning of a smile, (emotional expression,) together with impressibility 

the Susceptibility, to the cheering influence of it, are learnt among the and 

Susceptibility 

early acquisitions of infancy. The child comes to see that this expression ag ^ 

accompanies the substantial pleasures that need no association to give Co-ordinate 

them their character.”— Bain's “ The Senses and the Intellect book 2, 0 08 

Emotion, 

chap. 1, p. 401. 





80 


The Second Idea of Man. 


“ The intensity of the pleasurable feeling given by a rose held to 
the nostrils, rapidly diminishes'; and when the sniffs have been continued 
for some time, scarcely any scent can be perceived. A few minutes’ rest 
partially restores the impressibility; hr 1 a long interval must elapse 
before the odour is enjoyed as keenly as at first. This quick exhaustion, 
producing in such cases some disappointment, has its correlative advan - 
tage when the smells are disagreeable. Very soon these become much 
less perceptible; and to those living in it a stench gives scarcely any 
annoyance.”— Herbert Spencer's “ Principles of Psychology ,” Part 1; 
chap. 6, p. 45. 

Emotional “ When the eye is directed to any object, an image of that object 

Impressibility j g depicted on the back of the eye, by means of the rays of light entering 
as a mean 

between Smell an< ^ refracted by the different humours. The image, which 

and Sight. is inverted, produces an impression somehow on the retina, with the 
assistance of the choroid coat, and this impression passes inwards to the 
nervous centre, whence the optic nerve takes it rise.”— Bain's “ The 
Senses and the Intellect ,” Book 1; chap. 3; p. 226. 

“ The name pungent is applicable to a large class of odours, and 
enters as an ingredient into many more. Ammonia is the type of sub¬ 
stances producing this sensation. Nicotine, the snuff odour, is the best 
known example, a substance having a chemical analogy to ammonia. 
Many of the acid effluvia have a pungent action. This effect, however, 
is not an olfactory effect in the proper sense of the word; like astringency 
and acidity in taste, it would probably act on the sensibility of the nose 
independently of the power of smell, Snuff-takers are often devoid of 
smell; they lose the sense of sweet or repulsive in odours properly so- 
called, but are still susceptible of the nicotine pungency. The influence 
flows through the same channel to the brain, and is of the same nature 
as pricking the nose, or pulling out hairs, being conveyed by the nerves 
of common sensation. 


The Second Idea of Man, 


\ 


PLATE II. 


LEFT HAND SECTION. 


THE IDEA OF INSTINCT. 

25.—The Idea of Consciousness being simply that of Consciousness 
—a having in the Mind that which is already in the 
Spirit —of the being in fact in a State of Spirit-Minded - 
ness or Mindfulness— is thence also determined as the 
Primary Axis of the Split's Impulse or Instinct-of-Mind- 
ing (par 4). ** 

Thus there is much toiling on behalf of Family (par 9) 
and Appetite (par. 17) under the influences of the Spirit 
or Self-law-giving-Energies of Affection and Sense, 
during which we are perfectly unconscious of Family or 
Appetite—that is—during which, neither Family nor 
Appetite , although undoubtedly in the Spirit, ever come 
into the Mind ,—consciousness being for the time entirely 







86 


The Second Idea of Man. 


engaged with the work in hand, or the Spirit of the work 
more immediately in hand fully occupying the Mind ; and, 
on the other hand we may work steadily and strongly, 
and yet altogether mechanically, whilst thinking or mind - 
ful of quite other things, than the work itself, the Spirit 
of the Work carrying us along unconsciously , the Mind 
being elsewhere. 


The Idea of Consciousness would therefore seem to 
imply, that which its etymology indeed indicates—a con * 
joint state of Spirit and Mind —or as already said—a state 
of Spirit-Minding, ©r Minding of the Spirit's state;—or 
a state in which Soul-Affection and Body-Sense not only 
energize, but are mindful of the Conditions , or of the 
internal and external puttings-together, in which they so 
energize. 


Consciousness 
as the 

Entrance-door 

Mind. 


“ All that we know comes to us in what we call mind or conscious¬ 
ness. We may differ as to what mind is—as to the origin of this strange 
thing, or power, or organism, or mode of existence, which we call con¬ 
sciousness, and as to the gradations in which it may be found actually 
appearing up to man, or may be imagined as ascending beyond man. 
Nay, we may differ even as to the ultimate scientific necessity of that 
distinction between mind and matter, soul and body, which has come 
down sanctioned by immemorial usage, and pervades all our language. 
But we all talk of mind ; nor, with whatever reserve of liberty to speculate 
what it is, or how it came to be, can we do otherwise. Nothing is known 
to us except in and through mind. It is in this consciousness , which each 
of us carries about with him, and which, be it or be it not the dissoluble 


Consciousness. 


87 


result of bodily organisation, is thought of by all of us not under any 
image suggested by that organisation, but rather as a great chamber or 
serial transparency, without roof, without walls, without bounds, and yet 
somehow enclosed within us, and belonging to us—it is within this 
chamber that all presents itself that we can know or think about. 
Except by coming within this chamber, or revealing itself there, nothing 
can be known.”— Masson's “ Recent British Philosophy Chap. 2; 
p. 31. 

“ Consciousness. This may be considered as the leading term of 
Mental Science; all the most subtle distinctions and the most debated 
questions are unavoidably connected with it.”— Bain's “ Mental and 
Moral Science," Appendix E., p. 98. 

“No man,” said Dr. Reid, “can perceive an object without being 
conscious that he perceives it. No man can think without being con¬ 
scious that he thinks. And as on the one hand we cannot think or feel, 
without being conscious, so on the other hand, we cannot be conscious 
without thinking or feeling. This would be, if possible, to be conscious 
of nothing—to have a consciousness which was no consciousness, or con¬ 
sciousness without an object.This view of consciousness, 

as the common condition under which all our faculties are brought into 
operation, or of considering these faculties and their operations as so 
many modifications of consciousness, has of late been generally adopted ; 
so much so, that psychology, or the science of mind, has been denomin¬ 
ated an enquiry into the facts of consciousness. All that we can truly 

! arn of mind must be learned by attending to the various ways in which 
becomes conscious. None of the phenomena of consciousness can be 
lied in question. They may be more or less clear, more or less 
complete ; but they either are or are not.”— Fleming's “ Vocabulary of 
Philosophy." 










88 


Tne Second Idea oE Man. 


“ All theories of the human mind profess to be interpretations of 
consciousness : the conclusions of all of them are supposed to rest on 
that ultimate evidence, either immediately or remotely. What conscious¬ 
ness directly reveals, together with what can be legitimately inferred from 
its revelations, compose by universal admission all that we know of the 
mind, or indeed of any other thing. When we know what any philoso¬ 
pher considers to be revealed in consciousness, we have the key to the 
entire character of his metaphysical system.”— Mill's Examination of 
Sir W. Hamilton's “ Philosophy." Chap. 8 ; p. 182. 


Consciousness 
the Primary 
Axis of 
Instinct. 


“ In its higher forms, Instinct is probably accompanied by a rudi¬ 
mentary Consciousness. There cannot be Co-ordination of many stimuli 
without some ganglion through which they are all brought into relation. 


In the process of bringing them into relation, this ganglion must be sub¬ 
ject to the influence of each, must undergo many changes. And the 
quick succession of changes in a ganglion, implying as it does perpetual 
experiences of differences and likenesses, constitutes the raw material of 
consciousness. The implication is , that as fast as Instinct is developed , 
some kind of Consciousness becomes nascent."—Herbert Silencer's “ Prin* 
ciples of Psychology." V. 1 ; part 4 ; chap. 5; p. 195. 


Consciousness “ Consciousness is the necessary knowledge which the Mind has of 

as a Con-joint own operations. In knowing, it knows that it knows. In expe- 

Mind and 

Spirit State fencing emotions and passions, it knows that it experiences them. In 
willing, or exercising acts of causality, it knows that it wills or exercises 
such acts. This is the common, universal and spontaneous consciousness 

.By consciousness more nicely and accurately defined, we 

mean the power and act of self-recognition: not if you please, the mind 
knowing its knowledges, emotions, and volitions; but the mind knowing 
itself in these.”— Tappan , “ Doctrine of the Will by an Appeal to Con¬ 
sciousness." Chap. 2 ; sect. 1. 


Impressibility and Susceptibility. 


81 


Nevertheless, the excitement of pungency is a characteristic variety 
of the human consciousness, a species of agreeable sensation interesting 
to study. It shows the effect of a sharp mechanical irritation of the 
nerves that does not amountlo acute pain. A scratch or a blow on the 
skin, an electric spark, a lo rash, a brilliant flame, a scorching heat, 
are all pungent effects, and seem to owe the pleasure they cause to the 
general excitement they diffuse over the system, and the lively expression 
that they give birth to. They rouse the system from ennui to enjoyment, 
they are a species of intoxication. They exalt for the time being the 
emotional condition of the human system.”— Bain's “ The Senses and the 
Intellect .” B. 1; chap. 2; p. 169. 

“ Passing now to Sounds considered as Sensations, I might dis- Emotional 

tinguish these into three classes, the first would comprise the general Suswvt'ibility 

as a mean 

effects of sound as determined by Quality, Intensity, and Volume or between Ta«te 
v ' itity, to which all ears are sensitive. The second class would include and Hearing. 

cal sounds, for which a susceptibility to Pitch is requisite. Lastly, 
t; - ) is the sensibility to the Direction and Articulateness of sounds ; on 
> properties depend much of the intellectual uses of the sense of 
. ing.”—B. 1; chap. 2 ; p. 202. 

“ This sensation of the sweet in sound I have characterised as the 
simple, pure, and proper pleasure of hearing; a pleasure of great acute¬ 
ness but of little massiveness. The acuteness of it is proportioned to 
th rank of the ear as a sensitive organ, or to the susceptibility of the 
xv d, to be stirred and moved through the channel of hearing. Now in 
t'i- generality of mankind the ear is extremely sensitive perhaps in none 
of he senses are we more keenly alive to pleasure and pain than in this, 
although we do not obtain from it that bulky enjoyment that comes through 
the organic feelings.”— Bain's “ The Senses and the Intellect .” B. 1; 
chap. 2 ; p. 202—3. 




The Second Idea of Man. 


Sensibility 

and 

Sensitivity. 


Sensibility 

and 

Sensitivity 
as the 
Co-ordinate 
Poles of 
Feeling. 


24.—The Co-ordinate Poles of Feeling are Sensibility 
and Sensitivity ,—the former as the positive pole lies thus 
also as a mean betwixt the Senses of Taste and Sight, 
and the latter as the negative pole lies in the same way as 
a mean betwixt Smell and Hearing. 

“It is the business of a work like the present to review the entire 
range of human sensibility , in so far as this can be reduced to general or 
comprehensive heads; and the only question is, where ought these 
organic feelings to be brought in ? I know of no better arrangement for 
them, than to include them among the Sensations. The only apparent 
objection is the want of outward objects corresponding to them in all 
cases. The feelings of comfort or discomfort arising from a circulation 
healthy or otherwise, are not sensations in the full meaning of the term ; 
they have no distinct external causes like the pleasures of music, or the 
revulsion of a bitter taste. But the reply to this objection is, first, that 
in many cases, if not in all, an external object can be assigned as the 
stimulus of the feeling : for example, in all the digestive feelings, the 
contact of the food with the surface of the alimentary canal, is the true 
cause or object of the feeling. In like manner, the respiratory feelings 
may be viewed as sensations having the air for their outward object or 
antecedent. And with reference to the cases where feeling cannot be 
associated with any external contact, as in acute pains of diseased parts, 
what we may plead is the strong analogy in other respects between such 
feelings and proper sensations. In all else, except the existence of an 
outward stimulus the identity is complete. The seat of the feeling is a 
sensitive mass , which can be affected by irritants external to it, and which 
yields nearly the same effects in the case of a purely internal stimulus. 
So much is this the fact, that we are constantly comparing our inward 
feelings to sensations; we talk of being oppressed, as with a heavy 




Sensibility and Sensitivity. 83 

burden, of being cut, or torn, or crushed, or burned, under acute internal 
sensibility. Taking all these considerations together, I feel satisfied of 
the propriety of the common view which classes these feelings as sensa - 
tions. In carrying out this conviction, I shall place them first in the 
order of the Senses, under the title of Organic feelings, or Sensations of 
Organic Life.”— Bain's “ The Senses and the Intellect." B. 1; chap. 2; 

p. 120. 

“ The increasing sensibility of the tongue, from tip to back, serves The 

as an inducement to move the food gradually onward in the direction of Sensitivity of 

Feeling as a 

the pharynx, in order to be finally swallowed. The same sensibility , me an betwixt 

acting according to the general law of feeling-guided action, or volition, Smell and 

I Hearing, 

keeps up the mastication, whereby the sapid action of the food is in¬ 
creased by solution and comminution of parts. Thus it is that mastica¬ 
tion is purely a voluntary act, while deglutition or swallowing is purely 

I reflex and involuntary. 

The sensitive surface (of the organ of Smell) is a membrane lining 
the whole of the interior complicated cavities.The tortu¬ 

osity of the passages of the nose gives extent of surface to this membrane, 
and thereby increases the Sensibility of the nose as a whole. I shall 
quote part of the anatomical description of this Sensitive tissue. . . . 

. . With regard also to the distribution of the olfactory nerve on the 

membrane, there are great differences in the parts, the general fact being 
that the distribution is most copious in the interior parts of the cavity or 
those farthest removed from the outer openings. Hence the Sensibility 
I must belong mainly to those deeply lodged parts ; where there are no 
i nerves there can be no feeling.”— Bain's “ The Senses and the Intellect." 

| B. 1; chap. 2 ; pp. 151, 162. 








Plate II 


LEFT-HAND SECTION 


THE IDEA OF INSTINCT. 








Perception and Conception. 


89 


“.The psychical relations in any organism, will cor- Instinctive 

respond best to those physical relations it comes most in contact with. Consciousness 

of Conditions , 

The environment in general is infinite. The environment of each order or 0 f 

of creature is practically more or less limited. And each order of crea- putting 

ture has an environment which, besides being limited, is practically more 0 * 

internal and 

or less special.Contemplating the animal kingdom at external. 

large, the Jirst ‘psychical relations established ought to be those answering 
to the most prevalent environing relations of the simplest kind. Such are 

just what we find.In the progress of life at large, as in 

the progress of the individual, the adjustment of inner tendencies to 
outer persistencies, must begin with the simple and advance to the com¬ 
plex ; seeing that both within and without, complex relations, being "made 
up of simple ones, cannot be established before simple ones have been 

established.Further, it must follow that the only thing 

required for the establishment of a new internal relation answering to £a 
new external one, is, that the organism shall be sufficiently developed to 
cognise the two terms of the new relation, and that being thus developed, • 
it shall be placed in circumstances which present the new relation. Here 
also, there is [harmony between the a priori inference and the inference 
from observation.”— Herbert Spencer's “ Principles of Psychology.” Part 
4 ; chap. 3 ; p. 190. 


26.—The Ideas of Perception and Conception are the Perception 
| Co-ordinate Poles of the Idea of Consciousness, the exception, 
former the comparatively negative or passive; the latter 
the more positive or active ; for the Idea of Perception is, 
as its etymology denotes, simply that of a taking up by 
Consciousness, as impelled by the Spirit of Affection, or 
Sense,—whilst the Idea of Conception , of which the ety- 









Perception 

and 

Conception as 

Co-ordinate 

Polarities. 


Perception 
as the 

Negative Pole 
or basis of 
Consciousness 


90 The Second Idea op Man. 

mological interpretation is a talcing up together as One ,— 
is the further mental operation of a putting or holding to¬ 
gether as One in the Mind, that which has been separately 
taken up. 

“ The probability is that when our author (Sir William Hamilton) 
asserts that “ to think is to condition,” be uses the word Condition. . 
. . . in a third meaning equally familiar to him, and recurring con¬ 

stantly in such phrases as “ the conditions of our thinking faculty,” 

“ conditions of thought,” and the like.He means that 

our perceptive and conceptive faculties have their own laws, which not 
only determine what we are capable of perceiving and conceiving , but put 
into our perceptions and conceptions , elements not derived from the thing 
perceived or conceived but from the mind itself. That, therefore, we 
cannot at once infer that whatever we find in our perception or conception 
of an object, has necessarily a prototype in the object itself : and that we 
must, in each instance, determine this question by philosophic investiga¬ 
tion. According to this doctrine, with which no fault can be found with 
our author for maintaining, though often for not carrying it far enough— 
the “ conditions of thought ” would mean the attributes with which, it is 
supposed, the mind cannot help investing every object'of thought—the ele¬ 
ments which derived from its own structure cannot but enter into every 
conception it is able to form : even if there should be nothing corres¬ 
ponding in the object which is the prototype of the conception : though 
our author in most cases (therein differing from Kant), believes that there 
is this correspondence.”— Mill's Examination of Sir W. Hamilton's 
“ Philosophy." Chap. 4 ; p. 67. 

“ Every perception of an external object involves a Consciousness of 
it as such or such—as a something more or less specific ; and this im¬ 
plies either the identification of it as a particular thing or the ranging of 
it with certain kindred things. Every complete act of perception implies 








Perception and Conception. 


91 


an expressed or unexpressed “ assertory judgment ”—a predication re¬ 
specting the nature of that which is perceived: and the saying what a 
thing is, is the saying what it is like —what class it belongs to.”— Spencer's 
“ Principles of Psychology V. 2 ; part 6 ; chap. 10. 

“ The perception of external objects by our senses, is an operation of 
the mind of a peculiar nature, and ought to have a name appropriated to 
it. It has so in all languages, and in English I know no word more 
proper to express this act of the mind than perception . Seeing, hearing, 
smelling, tasting, and touching or feeling, are words that express the 
operations proper to each sense; perceiving expresses that which is 
common to them all.”— Dr. Reid's “Intellectual Powers.” Essay, 
chap. 1. 

“ The restriction thus imposed upon the word by Reid, is to be 
found in the philosophy of Kant, and as convenient has been generally 
acquiesced in.”— Flemings' “ Vocabulary of Philosophy." 

I 

“ Simple sensations — those, for instance, of sight and hearing, of 
touch and smell—come and pass away, and would quickly be lost to con¬ 
sciousness. But perceptions gathered from sensations, and especially such 
as combine the evidence of two or more of the senses, are persistent and 
adhesive, and they constitute the mind’s stock of materials, to be made 
available in all kinds of intellectual and moral action.” “ The World of 
Mind." Isaac Taylor. Par 350. 

“ The grand distinction of philosophers is determined by the alterna¬ 
tive they adopt on the question,—is our perception or our consciousness of 
external objects mediate or immediate ?— Sir W. Hamilton's “ 21st 
Lecture on Metaphysics." V. 2; p. 29. 






>92 


The Second Idea op Man. 


Conception as “ the term Conception , which means a taking up in 

the positive or ^ un ^j eg> or grasping into unity,—this term, I say ought to have been 
more active 

pole of left ^ en0 ^ e > w ^ at it* previously was, and only properly could be applied 

Consciousness to express—the notions we have of classes of objects. Sir 

W. Hamilton'8 “ 83 rd Lecture on Metaphysics." V. 2 ; p. 262. 

“ Conception consists in a conscious act of the understanding, bring¬ 
ing any given object into the same class with any number of other 
objects or impressions, by means of some character or characters 
common to them all. Concipimus, id est , capimus hoc cum illo — 
we take hold of both at once, we comprehend a thing, when we have learnt 
to comprise it in a known class.”— Coleridge , “ Church and State , Pre¬ 
liminary Remarks." P. 4. 

[But suppose I have the conception of a man standing 
on his head, would not such conception consist simply in 
the mentally picturing to myself,—that is, in a conscious 
minding of the perception of a man so standing,—apart 
from any classification' with others ? Or also,—have we 
no conception of the Sun in mid-day brilliancy, apart 
from the knowledge of other Suns, or its classification 
with other celestial objects ?— Author.] 

“ Conception is the forming or bringing an image or idea into the 
mind by an effort of the will. It is distinguished from sensation and 
perception produced by an object present to the senses; and from 
imagination , which is the joining together of ideas in new ways; it is 
distinguished from memory , by not having the feeling of past time con¬ 
nected with the idea ."—Taylor, “ Elements of Thought." 



Reflection. 


93 


27.—Our Conscious Perceptions and Conceptions Reflection, 
thus act and re-act upon each, other, and by thus acting 
and re-acting, interweave their respective workings as if 
by reflection into the light of mind, as the smPs rays are 
wrought by analogous reflection into the light of day—in 
such manner, namely, as to determine the Idea of Reflec¬ 
tion as the Secondary Axis of Instinct, or as the Co¬ 
ordinate Mind Axis of its Spirit-Consciousness. 

“ Reflection creates nothing—can create nothing, everything exists 0 f 

previous to reflection in the Consciousness ; but everything pre- Reflection 
exists there in confusion and obscurity ; it is the work of reflection 

lighting-up of 

in adding itself to consciousness to illuminate that which was obscure, to Consciousness 
develops that which was enveloped. Reflection is for consciousness what 
the microscope and telescope are for the natural sight. Neither of these 
instruments makes or changes the objects; hut in examining them on 
every side, in penetrating to their centre, these instruments illuminate 
them, and discover to us their characteristics and their laws.”— Cousin’s 
“ History of Modern Philosophy.” V. 1; p. 275. 

“ By 4 reflection I would be understood to mean that notice which the 
mind takes of its own operations, and the manner of them; by reason 
whereof there come to be ideas of these operations in the understanding. 

Those two, viz :—external material things, as the objects of Sensation ; 
and the operations of our own minds within, as the objects of reflection 
are to me the only originals from which all our ideas take their begin¬ 
nings. The term operations here I use in a large sense, as comprehend¬ 
ing not barely the actions of the mind about its ideas, but some sort of 
passions arising sometimes from them, such as in the satisfaction or un¬ 
easiness arising from any thought.”— Locke, “ Essay on Human Under¬ 
standing.” B. 2 ; chap. 1. 








94 


The Second Idea of Man. 


CommonSense 

and 

Thought. 


“If we limit the term Reflection in conformity to its original 
employment and proper signification,—an attention to the internal 
phenomena —reflection will be an expression for self-consciousness con¬ 
centrated .”—Sir IF. Hamilton's 20 th Lecture on Metaphysics. V. 2; 

p. 11—12. 


“ Reflection on itself is the distinguishing characteristic of a stage or 
mode of Consciousness.Consciousness first under¬ 

stands objects, that is, phenomena are first a collection of feelings or 
matter indifferently in time and space ; then it reflects on itself, or what 

is the same thing, on the phenomena.A new light dawns 

with reflection. S. H. Hodgson's “ Time and Space." 


28.—The Idea of Reflection, is, however, thence also 
both negative or passive, and positive or active; for Per¬ 
ception and Conception by their inter-reflections and 
consequent minglings, lay in the first place the ground¬ 
work of Common Sense —a Sense, namely, in which our 
perceptions and conceptions constitute not only One 
Common State —but also a Common or Habitual State of 
reflected consciousness, and rise in the second place, by 
further action and re-action upon each other when so 
mingled, stimulated moreover by the accretions of new 
matter, into the activity, or positivity, of Thought. 

The Ideas of Common Sense and Thought are thus 
the Co-ordinate Poles of the Idea of Reflection; and that 






Common Sense and Thought. 


95 


of Common-Sense its Negative Pole or Basis, but Thought 

its positive Pole, for to think and to reflect are by common 

■ 

usage synonymous. 

“ . . • . A practised Detective will often arrive, by a sort of (j ommon Sense 

divination, at the conviction of the guilt or innocence of a suspected Reflection and 

person, which ultimately turns out to be correct; and yet he could not thought Re 

flection 

convey to another any adequate reasons for his assurance, which depends aa opposite 
upon the impression made upon his Ego by minutiae of look, tone, Polarities, 
gesture, or manner, which have little or no significance to ordinary 
observers, but which his specially-cultured Common-Sense instinctively 
appreciates. Such a case differs from the scientific recognition of the 
phenomena of nature by the trained observer, and the interpretation of 
them by the sagacious reasoner, in this:—That while their experience 
enables them not only to see what would escape ordinary notice, but to 
attach the highest significance (as in the case of Spectroscopic inquiry), 
to indications which might seem of the most trivial character, they can 
always explain their reasons for doing so. Thus the recognition of the 
gaseous condition of certain nebulae (as distinguished from those which 
are very remote clusters of stars), by the nature of certain lines in spectra 
that are themselves so faint as to be only visible to the trained vision of a 
Huggins or a Lockyer, is effected by the dianoia; whilst the immediate 
divination of the detective is the work of his nous. — The Contemporary 
Revieiv,Feby. t 1872. Art. “ What is Common Sense.” P. 415. 

“ The distinction between ‘ Common Sense ’ and ‘ Ratiocination,’ or 
the ‘ Discursive power,’ is regarded by Sir William Hamilton as equiva¬ 
lent to that which the Greek philosophers meant to indicate by the terms 
nous and dianoia ; and our colloquial use of the former, as corresponding 
to that cultivated Common Sense which is often distinguished as ‘ good 
sense ’ is thereby justified. 




96 


The Second Idea of Man. 


There are, however, two principal forms of this capacity, which it is 
desirable clearly to distinguish:—The first is what the philosopher 
means by Common Sense, when he attributes to it the formation of those 
original convictions or ultimate beliefs, which cannot be resolved into 
simpler elements, and which are accepted by every normally-constituted 

human being as direct cognitions of his own mental states. 

It is the second , however, which constitutes what is popxdarly meant by 
4 Common Sense,’ as in the following passage from a recent newspaper 
article on the “ Dangers of the London Season.” 44 Any builder for a 
few pounds may save us from the dangers of the sewers ; but nothing 
short of unpurehasable common sense will preserve us from the deadly 
effects of our^gaieties.” This form of common sense, though the posses¬ 
sion of mankind in general, varies greatly, as to both range and degree, 
among different individuals; serving, however, to each as his guide in the 
ordinary affairs of life .—The Contemporary Review , Feby., 1872. Art 
“ What is Common Sense ? P. 402. 


“The term Common Sense has likewise been applied to designate the. 
place of principles. This word is also ambiguous. In the first place, it 
was the expression used in the Aristotelic philosophy, to denote the 
CommonSense Central or Common Sensory, in which the different external senses met 
and were united. In the second place, it was employed to signify a sound 
understanding applied to vulgar objects, in contrast to a scientific or 
speculative intelligence, and it is in this signification that it has been 
taken by those who have derided the principle on which the philosophy, 
which has been distinctively denominated the Scottish, professes to be 
established. This is not, however, the meaning which has always or 
even principally been attached to it; and an incomparably stronger case 
might be made out in defence of this expression than has been done by 
Reid, or even by Mr. Stewart. It is in facta term of high antiquity, and 
very general acceptation.In modern times it is to be found 


Antiquity 

and 

universality 
of the term 




Common Sense and Thought. 


97 


in the philosophical writings of every country in Europe .... in 
fact, so far as use and wont may be allowed to weigh, there is perhaps no 
philosophical expression in support of which a more numerous array of 
authorities may be alleged.”— Sir TV\ Hamilton's 38 th Lecture on 
“ Metaphysics.”— V. 2 ; p. 347. 

“ It is by the help of an innate power of distinction, that we recog- CommonSens© 

nise the difference of things, as it is by a contrary power of composition as ^ ene g a ti ye 

or basic state 

that we recognise their identities. These powers, in some degree, are 0 j Reflection 
common to all minds ; and as they are the basis of our whole knowledge 
(which is of necessity either affirmative or negative), they may be said to 
constitute what we call common sense.” — Harris, Philosophical Airange- 
ment. Chap. 19. 

“ There is a certain degree of sense which is necessary to our being 
subjects of law and government, capable of managing our own affairs 
and answerable for our conduct to others. This is called Common Sense, 
because it is common to all men with whom we can transact business.”— 

Reid, “ Intellectual Powers.” Essay 6 ; chap. 2. 

“ What we call the judgment of Common Sense, appears to me to be 
the immediate or instinctive response that is given, in Psychological 
language, by the Automatic action of the Mind, or, in Physiogical lan¬ 
guage, by the Reflex action of the Brain, to any question which can be 
answered by such a direct appeal to self-evident truth.”— The Contempor¬ 
ary Review, Feby., 1872. Art. “ What is Common Sense?” P. 403. 

“ Thought and thinking are used in a more, and in a less restricted Thought the 

i signification. In the former meaning they are limited to the discursive more P° dltlve 

or elaborately 

energies alone ; in the latter, they are co-extensive with consciousness.” r ^ ec ^ ve 


■Sir W. Hamilton. “ Reid's Works.” P.222. Note. 


faculty. 





Reason. 


J 



'98 The Second Idea op Man. 

“ In the fifth place all the faculties we have considered are only 
subsidiary. They acquire, preserve, call out, and hold up, the materials, 
for the use of a higher faculty which operates upon these materials, and 

which may be called the Elaborative or Discursive Faculty. 

. . Under the general cognitive faculty, there is thus dr inated 

a fifth special faculty in the Elaborative Faculty.This is 

Thought , strictly so-called ; it corresponds to the Dianoia of the Greek, 
to the Discursus of the Latin, to the Verstand of the German jPhilosophy.” 
—Sir W. Hamilton's 20 th Lecture on Metaphysics. V. 2 ; p. 15. 


29 .—Reason is tlie Pivotal Instinct, or the knotting 
point and working centre of Consciousness and Reflec¬ 
tion. In reasoning, whether with ourselves or with others, 
we either reflect our conscious Perceptions and Concep¬ 
tions into the light of our Common-Sense and Thought, 
or we bring the already reflected light of our Common- 
Sense and Thought to bear upon the newer Conceptions 
and Perceptions of Consciousness , and in both cases in 
order to ascertain the fundamental reason of things or the 
ratios of the putting together of the Internal Man and 
the External World,—for to be un-reasonable is at all 
times to over-estimate the internal relatively to the exter¬ 
nal, or vice versa to over-estimate the external relatively 
to the internal—whilst to be reasonable is to estimate both 
at their true ratio-nal values, or in accordance with their 
true relationships the one to the other. 










Reason. 


99 


** Thus we have the Latin ratio, meaning reason ; and ratiocinor, to 
reason. This word ratio we apply to each of the two quantitative rela¬ 
tions forming a proportion ; and the word ratiocination , which is defined 
as ‘ the ar' deducing consequences from premises,’ is applicable alike 
to numerical and other inferences. Conversely, the French use raison in 
the same sense that ratio is used by us. Throughout, therefore, the im¬ 
plication is that reason-ing and ratio-ing are fundamentally identical.”— 
Herbert Spencer's “ Principles of Psychology .” V. 2 ; part 6 ; chap 8 ; 
p. 308. 

“ That the commonly-assumed hiatus between Reason and Instinct 
has no existence, is implied both in the argument of the last few chapters, 
and in that more general argument elaborated in the preceding part . . 

. . . Not only does the recently-enunciated doctrine, that the growth 

of intelligence is throughout determined by the repetition of experiences 
involve the continuity of Reason and Instinct; but this continuity is in¬ 
volved in the previously-enunciated doctrine. 

The impossibility of establishing any line of demarcation between 
the two may be clearly demonstrated. If every instinctive action is an 
adjustment of inner relations to outer relations, and if every rational 
action is also an adjustment of inner relations to outer relations ; then, 
any alleged distinction can have no other basis than some difference on 
the characters of the relations to which the adjustments are made. It 
must be, that while in Instinct, the correspondence is between inner and 
outer relations that are very simple or general; in reason, the corres¬ 
pondence is between inner and outer relations that are complex, or special, 
or abstract, or infrequent. But the complexity, speciality, abstractness, 

and infrequency of relations, are entirely matters of degree. 

. . How then can any particular phase of complexity or infrequency 

be fixed upon as that at which Instinct ends and Reason begins ? 

L.of C. 


Identity of the 
reason-able 
and the 

ratio-nal. 


Reason is an 
Instinct and 
the Central 
or Pivotal 
Instinct- 








100 


The Second Idea op Man. 


From whatever point of view regarded, the facts imply a gradual 
transition from the lower forms of psychical action to the higher. That 
progressive complication of the instincts, which, as we have found, in¬ 
volves a progressive diminution of their purely automatic character, like¬ 
wise involves a simultaneous commencement of Memory and Reason.” 

“ Hence it is clear that the actions which we call instinctive pass 
gradually into the actions we call rational. 

Further proof is furnished by the converse fact, that the actions we 
call rational are, by long-continued repetition, rendered automatic or in¬ 
stinctive. By implication, this lapsing of reason into instinct was shown 
in the last chapter, when exemplyfying the lapsing of memory into 

instincts : the two facts are different aspects of the same fact. 

. . In short, many, if not most of our common daily actions (actions 

every step of which was originally preceded by a consciousness of con¬ 
sequences, and was therefore rational), have, by perpetual repetition, been 
rendered more or less automatic. The requisite impressions being made 
upon us, the appropriate movements follow; without memory, reason, 
or volition, coming into play.”— Spencer's “ Principles of Psychology." 
Spencer's “ Principles of Psychology." V. 1; part 1 ; chap. 7; p. 203. 
Yol. 1; part 1; chap. 7; p. 203 and 204. 

“ Dr. Darwin contends that what has been called the instinctive 
actions of the inferior animals are to be referred to experience and reason- 
ing , as well as those of our own species ; ‘ though their reasoning is from 
fewer ideas, is busied about fewer objects, and is exerted with less 
energy.’ ”—“ Zopnomia." Vol. 1; pp. 256. 

Mr. Smellie, instead of regarding the instinctive actions of the inferior 
animals as the results of reasoning, regards the power of reason as itself 
an instinct. He holds that all animals are, in some measure, rational 
beings ; and that the dignity and superiority of the human intellect are 


•• 1 



Speculation and Memoey. 


101 


necessary results of the great variety of instincts which nature has been 
pleased to confer on the species.”— Philosophy of Natural History. Y. 1, 

p. 155. 

“ Reason seems chiefly to consist in the power to keep such or such 
thoughts in the mind ; and to change them at pleasure ; instead of their 
flowing through the mind as in dreams, also in the power to see the 
difference between one thought and another, and so compare, separate, or 
join them together afresh.”— Taylor's “Elements of Thoughts.' 1 ' 


30.—The Ideas of Speculation and Memory are the Speculation 
Co-ordinate Modes of the Idea of Reason, in respective Me ^o ry 
correspondence with its fundamental Constituent Axes, or 
the Ideas of Consciousness and Reflection. Thus in the 
Idea of Speculation, the Spirit , or Self-law-giving-Ener- 
gies of Conscious Perception and Conscious Conception 
dominate, whereas in the Idea of Memory , the re-flected 
mindings of Common-Sense and Thought prevail. The 
Idea of Speculation is thence also that of the Free-Will 
of Reason, but the Idea of Memory that of its Will of 
Necessity. 

“ But, admitting this, is not speculation a higher region for the range Importance of 

and exercise of man’s intellectual faculties than action ? It develops the Speculative 

Reason. 

more noble portions of his nature than can be done by the wear and tear 
of the world ; it holds up to his contemplation the purest and most serene 
objects that the mind of man rivets itself upon. And, accordingly, the 
more speculative, in the higher sense of that word, a science is, and what 
can fee more speculative than metaphysics ?—the more entitled is it, as a 







102 


The Second Idea of Man. 


science, to the respect and approval and gennine admiration of the world. 
And as to the exclusive profession of knowledge by any one class in 
contra-distinction to any other, no system of knowledge can be considered 
as the peculiar possession of any particular section of mankind : because 
Aristotle triumphantly shows that all men are actuated with the desire of 
knowledge in and for itself, and that the aspirations thus implanted by 
the Creator in all, could not possibly be designed only for some.”— 
Analysis of Aristotle's Metaphysics. Bohn's Edition. B. 1; p. 13. 

“ Aristotle shows that the Science under investigation (Ontology), is 
speculative , not active, from the fact that the earliest philosophy sprang 
from wonder,—that wonder flows from ignorance,—that the removal of 
ignorance amounts to knowledge,—that this was accomplished by specula¬ 
tion, and not practice; and that therefore wisdom, the source of the 
highest knowledge, was speculative and not active.”— Aristotle's Meta¬ 
physics. Bohn's Edition. B. 1; chap. 2 ; p. 9. Note 1. 

“ It was under Catholicism that the speculative class began to assume 
the character assigned to it by the immutable laws of human nature, 
neither engrossing political sway, as in theocracies, nor remaining outside 

of the social organisation, as under the Greek regime .From 

this memorable period, a regular division between theory and its applica¬ 
tion began to be established, in the case of social ideas, as it had already 
been, with more or less success, in the case of simpler conceptions: 
political principles were no longer empirically constructed as required by 
practical urgency: social necessities came to be wisely considered in 
advance ; and a legitimate expansion was afforded to the spirit of social 
and even political improvement; in short, political action began to assume 
in its intellectual relations, a character of wisdom, extent, and even 
rationality which had never existed before, and which would have been 
more marked already but for the misfortune that the philosophy involved 




Speculation and Memory. 


103 


in the operation was the theological.”— Comte's Pos. Philosophy by Miss 
Martineau. B. 6 ; chap. 9 ; p. 264. 

\ 

“ The highest rank is held, according to that principle (the principle 
which forms all hierarchies) bj the speculative class. When the separa¬ 
tion of the two powers first took place under monotheism, the legal 
superiority of the clergy to all other orders was by no means owing only 
or chiefly to their religious character. It Was more on account of their 
speculative character; and the continued growth of the tendency, amidst 
the decay of religious influences, shows that it is more disinterested than 
is commonly supposed, and testifies to the disposition of human reason 
to place the highest value on the most general Conceptions. When the 
speculative class shall have overcome its dispersive tendencies, and 
returned to unity of principle amidst its diversity of employments, it will 
obtain the eminent position for which it is destined, and of which its 
present situation can scarcely afford any idea. While the speculative 
class is thus superior in dignity, the active class will be superior in express 
and immediate power, the division answering to the two opposite ways of 
classifying men, by capacity and by power.”— Comte's Pos. Philosophy by 
Miss Martineau. B. 6; chap. 12 ; p. 481. 


“ But though the position of Memory in the psychological system 
here sketched out, may not be at once understood, we need only pursue 
the synthesis a step further to see how memory results from the same 
process of developement by which Instinct, becoming more and more 
complicated, finally merges into the high forms of psychical action. 


Memory’as the 
Instinctive 
and the Com¬ 
plementary 
Co-ordinate of 
Speculative 
Reason. 


Some clue will be gained on observing that while, on the one hand, 
Instinct may be regarded as a kind of organized memory ; on the other 
hand, memory may be regarded as a kind of incipient instinct.”— Herbert 
Spencer's “ Principles of Psychology .” Part 4; chap. 6 : p. 199. 






104 


The Second Idea op Man. 

“ Memory, then, pertains to that class of psychical states which are 
in process of being organized. It continues so long as the organizing of 
them continues, and disappears when the organization of them is com¬ 
plete. Id the advance of the correspondence, each more complex cluster 
of attributes and relations which a creature acquires the power of recog¬ 
nizing, is responded to at first irregularly and uncertainly ; and there is 
then a weak remembrance. By multiplication of experiences, this 
remembrance is made stronger—the internal cohesions are better ad¬ 
justed to the external persistences ; and the response is rendered more 
appropriate. By further multiplication of experiences, the internal rela¬ 
tions are at last structurally registered in harmony with the external ones, 
and so, conscious memory passes into unconscious or organic memory. 
At the same time, a new and still more complex order of experiences is 
rendered appreciable. The relations that occur between these groups of 
phenomena that have thus been severally integrated in consciousness, 
occupy memory in place of the relations between the components of each 
group. These become gradually organized ; and like the previous ones, 
are succeeded by others more complex still.”— Spencer's Principles of 
Psychology. Part 4; chap. 6 ; p. 202. 

“ Before passing from the faculty of Memory , considered simply as 
the power of conservation, I may notice two opposite doctrines, that have 
been maintained, in regard to the relation of this faculty to the higher 
powers of mind. One of these doctrines holds, that a great development 
of memory is incompatible with a high degree of intelligence ; the other, 
that a high degree of intelligence supposes such a development of Memory 
as its condition. 

The former of these opinions is one very extensively prevalent, not 

only among philosophers, but among mankind in general. 

There seems, however, no yalid ground for the belief.But if 

there be no ground for the vulgar opinion, that a strong faculty of reten- 



i 



Opinion and Belief. 


105 


tion is incompatible with intellectual capacity in general, the converse 
opinion is not better founded.This doctrine does not, how¬ 

ever, deserve an articulate refutation, for the common experience of every 
one sufficiently proves, that intelligence and memory hold no necessary 
proportion to each other.”— Sir W. Hamilton's 31sf Lecture on Meta¬ 
physics. P. 22. 


31. — Opinion and Belief seem to be the Co-ordinate Opinion 
Poles of Speculation, for, as in Opinion so also in Belief, B ^ f 
we appear to looh mentally into the nature of things; but 
in Opinion as the negative pole, and lying therefore as a 
mean betwixt Perception and Common-Sense, with a more 
cursory or uncertain gaze, than in Belief the positive 
pole,—which lies therefore also as a mean betwixt the 
positivities of Conception and Thought. 

“ A change of speculative opinions does not imply an increase of the Belief and 

data upon which those opinions rest, but a change of the habits of thought Opinion as the 

Co-ordinate 

and mind which they reflect. Definite arguments are the symptoms and p oleg 0 £ 
pretexts, but seldom the causes, of the change. Their chief merit is to Speculation, 
accelerate the inevitable crisis. They derive their force and efficacy from 
their conformity with the mental habits of those to whom they are 
addressed. Reasoning, which in one age would make no impression 
whatever, in the next age is received with enthusiastic applause. It is one 
thing to understand its nature, but quite another to appreciate its force. 

And this standard of belief this tone and habit of thought, which is the 
supreme arbiter of the opinions of successive periods, is created, not by 
the influences arising out of any one department of intellect, but by the 
combination of all the intellectual and even social tendencies of the age: 











106 


The Second Idea of Man. 


Opinion as a 
Mean betwixt 
CommonSense 
and 

Perception. 


Those who contribute most largely to its formation are, I believe, the 
philosophers. Men like Bacon, Descartes, and Locke, have probably done 
more than any others to set the current of their age. They have formed 
a certain cast and tone of mind. They have introduced peculiar habits 
of thought—new modes of reasoning—new tendencies of enquiry.”— 
Lecky's History of Rationalism. Introduction. P. 7. 

“ Man is by nature a social animal.” “ He is more political,” says 
Aristotle, “ than any bee or ant! But the existence of society, from a 
family to a state, supposes a certain harmony of sentiment among its 
members ; and nature has, accordingly, wisely implanted in us a tendency 
to assimilate in opinion and habits of thought to those with whom we live 
and act. There is thus in every society, great or small, a certain gravita¬ 
tion of opinions towards a common centre. As, in our natural body, 
every part has a necessary sympathy with every other, and all together 
form, by their harmonious conspiration, a healthy whole; so in the social 
body, there is always a strong pre-disposition in each of its members to 
act and think in unison with the rest. This universal sympathy, or fellow 
feeling, of our social nature, is the principle of the different spirit domin¬ 
ant in different ages, countries, ranks, sexes, and periods of life. It is 
the cause why fashions, why political and religious enthusiasm, why moral 
example, either for good or evil, spread so rapidly, and exert so powerful 
an influence. As men are naturally prone to imitate others, they conse¬ 
quently regard as important or insignificant, as honourable or disgraceful, 
as true or false, as good or bad, what those around them consider in the 
same light. They love and hate what they see others desire and eschew. 
This is not to be regretted; it is natural, and consequently, it is right. 
Indeed, were it otherwise, society could not subsist, for nothing can 
be more apparent than that mankind in general, destined as they are to 
its occupations incompatible with intellectual cultivation, are wholly in¬ 
capable of forming opinions for themselves on many of the important 


Attention and Retention. 


107 


objects of human consideration. If such, however, be the intentions of 
nature with respect to the unenlightened classes, it is manifest that a 
heavier obligation is thereby laid on those who enjoy the advantages of 
intellectual cultivation, to examine with diligence and impartiality the 


foundations of those opinions which have any connection with the welfare 


of mankind. If the multitude must be led, it is of consequence that it 
be led by enlightened conductors.— Sir W. Hamilton's 5th Lecture on 
Metaphysics. V. 1, p. 7. 

The meaning of inconceivable has been made uncertain by habitual Belief as a 


Mean betwixt 
Thought and 
Conception. 


misuse of this kind. People wishing to express strongly their dis-belief 
in something alleged, have used this word for the purpose ; and thus 


inconceivable has come in many minds to be the equivalent of incredible. 
This vitiated meaning of the word has been assumed to be that which I 
intended to give it throughout the argument here presented in a revised 
form—a misapprehension which had not occurred to me as one that might 
arise. Lest this misapprehension should again arise, let me here define 
and illustrate what I mean by inconceivable, as distinguished from in¬ 
credible or unbelievable. 

An inconceivable proposition is one of which the terms cannot, by 
any effort, be brought before consciousness in that relation which the 
proposition asserts between them—a proposition of which the subject and 
the predicate offer an insurmountable resistance to union in thought. An 
unbelievable proposition is one which admits of being framed in thought, 
but is so much at variance with experience, in which its terms have 
habitually been otherwise united, that its terms cannot be put in the 
alleged relation without effort.” — Herbert Spencer's “ Principles of 
Psychology." Part 7; chap. 11 ; p. 427. 









108 


The Second Idea of Man. 


Attention 32. — Attention and Retention seem on the other hand 

and 

Retention, to be the Co-ordinate Poles of Memory; for Attention as 
the negative pole signifies that stretching out of the con¬ 
sciously-reflected mind towards its object, which lies as a 
Mean betwixt the Consciousness of Conception and the 
reflectedness of Common-Sense; whilst Retention as the 
more positive Memory holds that fast which has been laid 
hold of, and lies thence appropriately as a mean betwixt 
the Ideas of Thought-ful-ness and Perception. 


Attention and 
Retention 
as the 
Co-ordinate 
Poles of 
Memory. 


“ Now thg law of attention is admitted to be, that we attend only to 
that which, either on its own, or some other account, interests us. In 
consequence, what interests us only momentarily we only attend to 
momentarily; and do not go on attending to it, when that, for the sake of 
which alone it interests us, has been attained. ..... After read¬ 
ing a chapter of a book, when we lay down the volume do we remember to 
have been individually conscious of the printed letters and syllables which 
have passed before us ? Could we recall, by any effort of mind, the visible 
aspect presented by them, unless some unusual circumstance has fixed our 
attention upon it during the perusal ?— Mill's Examination of Sir W. 
Hamilton. Chap. 14 ; p. 314. 


“ When we see, hear, or think of anything, and feel a desire to know 
more of it, we keep the mind fixed upon the object; this effort of the 
mind, produced by the desire of knowledge , is called attention.” — Taylor 
Elements of Thought." 


[The Idea of Knowledge involves that of Memory. 

Authok.] 


“ The circumstances which have a tendency to facilitate or insure 
the retention or the recurrence of anything by the memory , are chiefly— 



Attention and Retention. 


109 


Vividness , Repetition , and Attention. When an object affects us in a 
pleasant or in a disagreeable manner, when it is frequently or familiarly 
observed, or when it is examined with attention and interest, it is more 
easily and surely remembered.”— Fleming's “ Vocabulary of Philosophy.” 

“ The power of reproduction (into consciousness) supposes a power 
of retention (out of consciousness). To this conservative power, I confine 
exclusively the term Memory.” — Sir W. Hamilton , Reid's Works. 

P. 912. 

“ There seems good reason for confining the appellation of memory 
to the simple power of retention , which undoubtedly must be considered 
as an original aptitude of mind, irresolvable into any other. The power 
of recalling the preserved impressions seems on the other hand rightly 
held to be only a modified exercise of the suggestive or reproductive 
faculty.”—Dr. Tulloch , “ Theism .” P. 206. 


“ In the common exercises of the mind, the modes of thinking are Attention as & 

so mixed up that it is not easy at all times to distinguish them. Atten- Mean betwixt 

tion is spoken of more vaguely than any other mode of thinking. The „ 

r ° CommonSense 

word is applied frequently to express the perseverance of the mind in any an q 
special work ; as, he attends to his books, or he does not attend. Atten- Conception, 
tion applies properly to thinking when it is engaged in receiving informa¬ 
tion from the senses, or when it observes the operations of the mind. Its 
place, among other mental operations, would appear to be, first, in re¬ 
ceiving information from the senses ; and second, in every case in which 
the mind applies itself to the consideration of some prescribed work. 

And when the mind is not thus engaged, it falls back into a resting or re¬ 
laxed position, which is called reverie. In this exercise the mind rests, 
and the term attention cannot be applied. When the mind comes out of 
its state of reverie, attention is applicable, for it does not come out till it 
is to attend to some definite, prescribed work, or else to listen to the com¬ 
munication of some sense. The mind then leaves its posture of rest, and 





110 


The Second Idea of Man. 


The Retention 

of Memory 
as a Mean 
betwixt 
Perception 
and Thought. 


assumes one of labour. Thus the limits of attention as a mode of think- 
ing would seem to be simply in attending to the report of the senses, and 
in turning from one mental state to discharge the duties of another.”— 
Pearson's “ Analysis of the Human Mind." Chap. 3 ; sect. 1. 

“ Let the reader make an experiment, and watch closely the opera¬ 
tions of his own mind. Let him take up a newspaper, and read over 
some paragraph which may prove an interesting and ready exercise for 
memory ; it may be the tragic details of some murder. His thoughts are 
closely exercised in attending to the several ciicumstances of the dark 
deed, and in proportion to his sensibility, he will be exercised with feeling. 
The.se two classes of mental action he will he able to observe, but no other. 
However carefully he may note the movements of his mind, he will fail to 
detect any other action. He has laid aside his paper, and a neighbour 
asks him in a conversation about the supposed murder. He readily tells 
over to him all the particulars. How were these written down in his 
mind ? It is beyond doubt that, as he read, that work was performed in 
the mind, although he could not observe it; as he could his thoughts, as 
he could his feelings. It is only afterwards that he discovers that a work 
is done, the doing of which he could not observe. It is after a train of 
thought has passed through the mind, that he is able to infer that reten¬ 
tion was doing it3 work, although it was out of sight.” — Pearson's 
“ Analysis of the Human Mind." Chap. 1; sect. 29. 

[In reading the details of any tragic event, we can 
scarcely be said to obsei've onr accompanying thoughts 
and feelings, but rather to have a conscious perception of 
the facts, and of the thoughts they awaken. The subse¬ 
quent retention will be in the degree of the combined 
prior vividness of perception, and accuracy of thought. 
—Author.] 

END OF THE IDEA OF INSTINCT. 



















« 







Plate II. 

RIGHT HAM ' SECTION. 


THE IDEA OF INTELLECT. 















THE SECOND IDEA OF MAN. 


PLATE IL 

RIGHT-HAND SECTION. 


THE IDEA OF INTELLECT. 

33.—The Idea of Inference is the primary Axis of Inference. 
Intellect (par. 4), or stands to Intellect in the relationship 
of Consciousness (par 25) to Instinct, and consists as its 
etymology imports, in the bringing-in to the mind, of such 
interconnexions of any present Consciousness or Reflection, 
as, although more or less hidden in the back ground of 
Memory or Speculation (par. 30), may be necessary to the 
completing of that present. 

“ To infer is nothing but by virtue of one proposition laid down as mfercnco a 

true, to draw in another as true; i.e., to see or suppose such a connection bringing in 

of the two ideas of the inferred proposition.”— Locke , “ Essay on ^ to the Mind o 

Complemen- 

Human Understanding B. 4 ; chap. 17. tary inter¬ 

connexions 







112 


The Second Idea op Man. 


“ We ought to comprehend, within the sphere of inference , all pro¬ 
cesses wherein a truth, involved in a thought or thoughts given as ante¬ 
cedent, is evolved in a thought which is found as consequent.”— Spalding 
Log. P. 1. 

“ Truths are known to us in two ways; some are known directly, and 
of themselves; some through the medium of other truths. The former 
are the subject of intuition or consciousness ; the latter, of inference. 
The truths known by intuition (consciousness), are the original premises 
from which all others are inferred. Our assent to the conclusion being 
grounded upon the truth of the premises, we never could arrive at any 
knowledge by reasoning, unless something could be known antecedently 
to all reasoning.” 

“.Whatever we are capable of knowing must belong 

to the one class or the other; must be in the number of primitive data 
or of the conclusions which may be drawn therefrom. 

“ Whatever is known to us by consciousness, is known beyond possi¬ 
bility of question. What >ne sees or feels, whether bodily or mentally, 

one cannot but be sure that one sees or feels.But we may 

fancy that we see or feel what we in reality infer .A truth, 

or supposed truth, which is really the result of a very rapid inference , 
may seem to be apprehended intuitively. It has long been agreed by 
philosophers of the most opposite schools, that this mistake is actually 

made in so familiar an instance as that of the eyesight.The 

perception of distance by the eye, which seems so like intuition, is . . 
. . . in reality, an inference grounded on experience; an inference, 
too, which we learn to make ; and which we make with more and more 
correctness as our experience increases. 

“ Of the science (Logic) therefore, which expounds the operations of 
the human understanding in the pursuit of truth, one essential part is 





Inference. 


113 


the enquiry; what are the truths which are the objects of intuition or 
consciousness, and what are those which we merely infer ? ’ ’— Mill's 
Logic. Introduction, pp. 3 and 5. 

“We have seen that rational action arises out of instinctive action 
when this grows to be too complex to be perfectly automatic. We have 
now to observe that, at the same time, there arises that kind of reasoning 
which does not directly lead to action—that reasoning through which the 
great mass of surrounding Co-existences and sequences are known. 

As fast as the groups of external attributes and relations recognised, 
become too complex to be consolidated into single psychical states, there 
result both the opportunity and the power of inferring such attributes or 
relations belonging to any group, as are not immediately presented. Pure 
Instinct continues so long as the stimuli responded to are made up of few 
and constant components. While the combined impressions of colour, 
position, size, and motion, which together stand for an adjacent object 
that can be seized for prey, are alone receivable, the actions will be purely 
automatic. But by the time that the organisation of experiences has 
given a power of appreciating the complicated relations of form, of 
mixed colouring, of peculiar motions, etc., along with the more general 
ones of colour, position, size, and motion; the. attributes and relations 
united into a group, have grown not only too numerous to be all mentally 
presented at the same instant, but too numerous to be all physically pre¬ 
sented at the same instant. For the same experiences which have 
rendered these complex groups of attributes cognisable, have also brought 
them before the senses in such various ways, that sometimes one part of 
a group has been perceptible, and someetims another part of it: Now 
these elements of an animal’s form, and markenings, and actions have 
been visible, and now those. Though on the average each experience of 
the group has resembled previous ones, yet it has presented some attri¬ 
butes which they did not present, and has not presented others 




114 


The Second Idea of Man. 


Induction 

and 

Deduction. 


Induction as 
the basic pole 
of Inference. 


which they did present. Hence, by an accumulation of such 
experiences, each complex group of external phenomena establishes in 
the organism an answering complex group of psychical states, which has 
the peculiarity that it contains more states than were ever produced, or 
ever can be produced, by any one presentation of the external group. 
What must happen from this ? It must happen that when, on any future 
presentation of the external group, certain of these aggregated psychical 
states are directly produced by the impressions made on the senses, 
various others of the psychical states that have been aggregated with 
them, or made coherent to them by experience, will become nascent: the 
ideas of one or more unperceived attributes will be aroused : the unper¬ 
ceived attributes will be inferred''’ — Herbert Spencer's “ Principles of 
Psychology .” Part 4; chap. 7 ; p. 458. 


34.—The Co-ordinate Poles of Inference are Indue - 
tion and Deduction —Induction the negative pole or mental 
process by which inter-connections are recognised or 
affirmed. Deduction, the more positive pole or process, 
by which certain of the interconnected or involved are 
again disentangled from such interconnection or involution 
and presented to the Mind, as leading most prominently 
in the direction of immediate or ultimate ends. 

“ Induction is a kind of argument which infers , respecting a whole 
class, what has been ascertained respecting one or more individuals of that 
class.”— Whately , Log., book II., chap. 5. 

[The ascertained is in this case the patent which 
draws its latent relationship with the class to which it 
belongs after it, and into the Mind.— Authok.] 



Inference. 


115 


“ Induction is that operation of mind by 'which we infer that what we 
know to be true in a particular case, or cases, will be true in all cases 
which resemble the former in certain assignable respects. In other words 
induction is the process by which we conclude that what is true of certain 
individuals of a class, is true of the whole class ; or that what is true at 
certain times will be true under similar circumstances at all times. . . 

. . . Induction as above defined is a process of inference ; it proceeds 
from the known to the unknown; and any operation involving no infer¬ 
ence, any process in which what seems the conclusion is no wider than 
the premises from which it is drawn, does not fall within the meaning of 
that term.”— Mill's Logic. B. 3 ; chap. 2 ; p. 1. 

[The “ truth of the particular case, or in regard to 
certain individuals ” is here the patent which draws the 
latent truth of the whole class after it.— Author.] 

“ As induction proper infers from the known to the unknown ; it 
assumes that, under certain circumstances (to be specified), what has 
been will be. The same thing is otherwise expressed by affirming that 
Nature is uniform, that there are laws of Nature. 

The great foundation of all possible inference is stated in many forms 
of language. ‘ Nature repeats itself,’ ‘ the future will resemble the past.’ 

‘ The absent is like the present,’ ‘ the Universe is governed by Laws’ . . 

. . . The principle is put in another light by the remark of Mr. Mill, 

that the Uniformity of Nature is the ultimate major premiss of every induc¬ 
tive inference .”— Bain's Logic. B. 1; chap. 2 ; p. 8. 

[Is it not surprising that although Mr. Bain explains 
as above, the term Induction by that of Inference —he has 
not considered the term inference itself as worthy of a 







116 


The Second Idea of Man. 


place in any of his Indexes ? He further uses the current 
hut incorrect locution of inferring from the known to the 
unknown, whereas the correct expression would be that 
of an inferring of the unknown from the known, as if the 
purchase resided in the known. Thus the imprint of the 
foot in the sand, or the known , the patent, served as the 
purchase which inferred or brought into Crusoe’s Mind— 
the unknown Savages latent in his Memory or Speculation, 
—to one of whom the foot had belonged. 


Now, ^since Mr. Bain’s abilities and learning cannot 
be disputed, it is evident that the errors of omission and 
commission, thus referred to (if errors there be), must be 
laid to account of an insufficient method, rather than to 
that of an insufficiency of acumen.— Author.] 


Deduction 
as the 

positive pole 
of Inference 
and the 
Co-ordinate 
of Induction. 


“ It is desirable at every stage to carry out Inductive laws into their 
Deductive applications. 


The full scope of the Deductive Method comprises three operations. 
1. There must be certain pre-established Inductions. 


Simple Deduction is the extending of an Inductive generalization to new 
cases.”— Bain's Logic. B. 3 ; chap. 10 ; pp. 95—97. 


“ Deduction .... (to draw from, to cause to come out of), is 
the mental operation which consists in drawing a particular truth from a 
general principle antecedently known. It is opposed to induction , which 
consists in rising fiom particular truths to the determination of a general 
principle. Let it be proposed to prove that Peter is mortal; I know that 





Inference. 


117 


Peter is a man, and this enables me to say that all men are mortal; from 

which affirmation I deduce that Peter is mortal.”— Fleming's Vocabulary 

\ 

of Philosophy , 

£That Peter is a man is patent, that he is mortal is 
a known but at the moment latent condition of his being 
as man, or a condition hidden in the background of ex¬ 
perience, until deductively inferred or brought forward 
because in the train of the patent. — Author.] 

“ The contrast of the Deductive and Inductive process is obvious. 
In the former, we proceed at each step from general truths to particular 
applications of them; in the latter, from particular observations to a 
general truth which includes them. In the former case we may be said 
to reason downwards , in the latter case, upwards ; for general notions are 
conceived as standing above particulars. 

******** 

“ Deductive .truths are the results of relations among our own 
thoughts. Inductive truths are relations which we discern among exist¬ 
ing things.”— Whewell's “ History of Scientific Ideas." B. 1; chap. 1; 
Section 3. 

“ Before we can deduce a particular truth, we must be in possession 
of the general truth. This may be acquired intuitively , as every change 
implies a cause; or inductively , as the volume of gas is in the inverse 
ratio of the pressure.” 

“ The principle of deduction is, that things which agree with the 
same thing agree with one another. The principle of induction is, that 
in the same circumstances, and in the same substances, from the same 
c auses the same effects will follow. 




118 


The Second Idea op Man. 


“ The mathematical and metaphysical sciences are founded on induc¬ 
tion." — Fleming's “ Vocabulary of Philosophy." 

u And here, respecting this series of mental acts, there occurs a con¬ 
sideration of some interest and importance. It is universally admitted 
that induction must precede deduction ,—that we cannot descend from 
the general to the particular, until we have ascended from the particular 
to the general. The fact now to be remarked is, that not only of reason¬ 
ing in its ensemble does this hold, but also, in a qualified sense, of each 
particular inference. A few pages back, it was pointed out that as, in the 
development alike of the general mind and the individual mind, qualita¬ 
tive reasoning precedes quantitative reasoning; so each particular act of 
quantitative ftasoning grows out of a preceding act of qualitative reason¬ 
ing. We are now introduced to the analogous law that as, in mental 
progress, both general and particular, induction precedes deduction ; so, 
every particular act of deduction properly so-called, implies a preparatory 
act of induction. For may we not properly say that the mental transition 
from the spontaneously inferred relation with which every deductive 
process must commence, to the class of relations it belongs to, parallels 
the act by which the mind originally passed from particular relations to 
the general relation ? True, the particular relation is now not an ob¬ 
served one ; and in so far the parallel does not hold. Still, it is conceived 
as existing; and only because it is so conceived does the class of such 
relations come into consciousness. The sequence of thought follows the 
channel through which the induction was before reached. As each 
separate deductive act involves an ascent from the particular to the 
general, before the descent from the general to the particular, the historic 
relation between induction and deduction is repeated. In all cases of de¬ 
duction, there is either an induction made on i. w spur of the moment 
(which is often the case), or there is an automatic re-thinking of the in¬ 
duction before made.”— Herbert Spencer's “ Principles of Psychology." 
Part 6 ; chap. 8 ; p. 306. 


Method. 


119 


35.—The Idea of Deduction as completing that of Method. 
Induction on behalf of certain definite purposes or ends, 
thus leads also to the Idea of Method, or to the Idea of a 
Way or Path of Transit towards such Ends, and thence 
determines the Idea of Method as the Secondary Axis of 
the Idea of Intellect, or as the Co-ordinate Mind Axis of 
the Spirit of Inference. 

“ The word Method being of Grecian origin, first formed and applied The Idea of 

by that acute, ingenious, and accurate people, to the purposes of scientific Method as an 

important 

arrangement, it is in the Greek language that we must seek for its primary p rocess 0 f the 
and fundamental signification. Now, in Greek, it literally means a way positive Mind 
or path of transit. Hence, the first idea of Method is a progressive ° r ^ e ^ ec ^' 
transition from one step in any course to another; and where the word 
Method is applied with reference to many such transitions in continuity, it 
necessarily implies a Principle of Unity with Progression. But that 
which unites, and makes many things one in the Mind of Man, must be 
an act of the Mind itself, a manifestation of Intellect, and not a spontan¬ 
eous and uncertain production of circumstances. This act of the Mind, 
then, this leading thought, this ‘ key note ’ of the harmony, this ‘ subtile, 
cementing, subterraneous * power, borrowing a phrase from the nomencla¬ 
ture of legislation, we may not inaptly call the Initiative of all Method. 

It is manifest, that the wider the sphere of transition is, the more com¬ 
prehensive and commanding must be the initiative: and if we would 
discover an universal Method , by which every step in our progress through 
the whole circle of Art and Science should be directed, it is absolutely 
necessary that we should se^k it in the very interior and central essence 
of the Human Intellect]!? 

“ To this point we are led by mere reflection on the meaning of the 
word Method. We discover that it cannot, otherwise than by abuse, be 






120 


The Second Idea of Man. 


applied to a dead and arbitrary arrangement, containing in itself no Prin¬ 
ciple of profession. We discover that there is a Science of Method ; and 
that that Science, like all others, must necessarily have its Principles ; 
which it therefore becomes our duty to consider. 

All things, in us, and about us, are a Chaos, without Method ; and 
so long as the mind is entirely passive, so long as there is an habitual 
submission of the Understanding to mere events and images, as such, 
without any attempt to classify and arrange them, so long the Chaos must 
continue. There may be transition, but there can never be progress; 
there may be sensation, but there cannot be thought; for the total absence 

of Method renders thinking impracticable; as we find that partial defects 

* 

of Method proportionably render thinking a trouble and fatigae. But as 
soon as the mind becomes accustomed to contemplate, not things only, 
but likewise relations of things, there is immediate need of some way or 
path of transit, from one to the other of the things related; there need 
be some law of agreement or of contrast between them; there must be 
some mode of comparison; in short, there must be Method. We may, 
therefore, assert that the relations of things form the prime objects, or, 
so to speak, the materials of Method ; and that the contemplation of those 
relations is the indispensable condition of thinking Methodically.”— S. 
L. Coleridge's “ Treatise on Method .” P. 14. 

“ There is only one possible method in philosophy; and what has 
been called the different methods of different philosophers, vary from 
each other only as more or less perfect.applications of this one Method to 
the objects of knowledge. 

“ All method is a rational progress,—a progress towards an end; and 
the method of philosophy is the procedure conducive to the end which 
philosophy proposes. The ends—the final causes—of philosophy, as we 
have seen, are two :—First, the discovery of efficient causes ; secondly, 




Method. 


121 


the generalization of our knowledge into unity;—two ends, however, 
which fall together into one, inasmuch as the higher we proceed in the 
discovery of causes, we necessarily approximate more and more to unity. 
The detection of the one in the many might, therefore, be laid down as 
the end to which philsophy, though it never can reach it, tends continually 
to approximate.”— Sir W. Hamilton's 6th Lecture on Metaphysics. 
V. 1; p. 96. 

“ Plato and Aristotle directed their observation on the phenomena of 
intelligence, and we cannot too highly admire the profundity of their 
analysis, and even the sobriety of their synthesis. Plato devoted himself 
more particularly to the higher faculties of intelligence ; and his disciples 
were led, by the love of generalization, to regard as the intellectaal whole 
those portions of intelligence which their master had analysed; and this 
exclasive spirit gave birth to symptoms false, not in themselves, but as 
resting upon a too narrow basis. Aristotle, on the other hand, whose 
genius was of a more positive character, analj sed, with admirable acute¬ 
ness, those operations of mind which stand in more immediate relation to 
the senses; and this tendency, which among his followers became often 
exclusive and exaggerated, naturally engendered systems which more or 
less tended to materialism.”— Sir W. Hamilton's 6th Lecture on Meta¬ 
physics. V. 1; p. 107. 

[Remark here the one-sidedness of two master minds 
and their followers, in the absence of a sufficient method. 
Plato and his followers overbalanced themselves in the 
direction of the 'positive Intellect and positive Instinct, to 
the comparative neglect, in both cases, of the negative ; 
and Aristotle and his followers on the other hand, in the 
direction of the negative Intellect and negative Instinct, to 





122 


The Second Idea of Man. 


Analysis 

and 

Synthesis. 


Analysis and 
Synthesis the 
Co-ordinate 
Poles of 
Method. 


the comparative neglect of the positive. This will be 
better understood by reference to Plate II., and later to 
Plate III.— Authoe.] 

^ - 

86.—The more general etymological significations of 

the terms Analysis and Synthesis, are simply those of a 
breaking up or separating, and a putting together or 
uniting ; but when considered as the Co-ordinate Poles 
of the Idea of Method, they thus become Methodical 
Analysis and Synthesis, their respective significations 
must be widened into that of a breaking up and putting 
together, which shall be a way or path of transit towards 
the Ends of Intellect, and which ends being the orderly 
arrangement of man's min dings and the conditions amongst 
which he dwells, the way or path of transit towards such 
arrangement must consist in the discovery and application 
of quantitative or numerical and geometrical proportions 
as dictated by the intimate constitution of Nature; and 
therefore also in Methodical Analysis, or in the breaking 
up of the compounded in order to the discovery of hidden 
elementary proportions, and in Methodical Synthesis, or 
in the putting together of the separated by the light of 
preceding Analysis. 

“ There is but one possible method of philosophy,—a combination of 
analysis and synthesis; and the purity and equilibrium of these two 
elements constitute its perfection. The aberrations of philosophy have 
been all so many violations of this one method. Philosophy has erred, 




Analysis and Synthesis. 


123 


because it built its systems upon incomplete or erroneous analysis ; and 
it can only proceed in safety, if, from accurate and unexclusive observa¬ 
tion, it rise, by successive generalisation, to a comprehensive system.”— 
Sir W. Hamilton's Gth Lecture on Metaphysics. P. 109. 

“ Analysis and synthesis , though commonly treated as two different 
methods, are, if properly understood, only the two necessary parts of the 
same method. Each is the relative and correlative of the other. Analysis* 
without a subsequent synthesis, is incomplete ; it is a mean cut off from 
its end. Synthesis, without a previous analysis, is baseless ; for synthesis 
receives from analysis the elements which it recomposes. And, as syn¬ 
thesis supposes analysis as the pre-requisite of its possibility, so it is 
also dependent on analysis for the qualities of its existence. The value 
of every synthesis depends upon the value of the foregoing analysis. If 
the precedent analysis afford false elements, the subsequent synthesis of 
these elements will necessarily afford a false result. If the elements 
furnished by analysis are assumed, and not really discovered,—in other 
words, if they be hypothetical,—the synthesis of these hypothetical ele¬ 
ments will constitute only a conjectural theory. The legitimacy of every 
synthesis is thus necessarily dependent on the legitimacy of the analysis 
which it pre-supposes, and on which it founds.”— Sir W. Hamilton's Gth 
Lecture on Metaphysics. P. 98. 

‘ Reflection cannot be exercised, and consequently no modes of 
reasoning be pursued, without viewing the object about which they 
are employed in either of two ways, viz., as an obscure whole, whose 
parts are to be resolved, or as a group of detailed parts to be linked 
together in the form of a constitutional whole. The first process is called 
analysis', from a Greek word, signifying decomposition; the last, synthesis , 
from a term derived from the same source, designating recomposition. 
These are the two vital functions of method —the two essential accom- 








124 


The Second Idea of Man. 


paniments of all thought—as systole and diastole are the living conditions 
of the animal organism.’’— J. Devey's Logic, or the Science of Inference, 
B. 4; chap. 11; p. 1. 

“ Analysis and synthesis, or decomposition and recomposition. Ob¬ 
jects of sense and of thought are presented to us in a complete state, but 
we can only, or at least best understand, what is simple. Among the 
varied objects of a landscape, I behold a tree, I separate it from the other 
objects, I examine separately its different parts—trunk, branches, leaves, 
&c., and then re-uniting them into one whole, I form a notion of the tree. 
The first part of the process is analysis, the second is synthesis. If this 

must be done with an individual, it is more necessary with the infinitude 

* 

of objects which surround us, to evolve the one out of many, to re call t he 
multitude to unity. We compare objects with one another to see wherein 
they agree; we next by a synthetical process, infer a general law, or 
generalise the co-incident qualities, and perform an act of induction which 
is purely a synthetical process, though commonly called analytical. 
Thus, from our experience that bodies attract within certain limits, we 
infer that all bodies gravitate towards each other. The antecedent here 
only says that certain bodies gravitate, the consequent says all bodies 
gravitate. They are brought together by the mental insertion of a third 
proposition, which is ‘ that nature is uniform.’ This is not the product 
of induction, but antecedent to all induction. The statement fully ex¬ 
pressed is, this and that body, which we know, gravitate, but nature is 
uniform; this and that body represent all bodies—all bodies gravitate. 
It is the mind which connects these things, and the process is synthetical. 
This is the one universal method in all philosophy, and different schools 
have differed only in the way of employing it. Method is the following of one 
thing through another. Order is the following of one thing after another. 
Analysis is real , as when a chemist separates two substances. Logical, 
as when we consider the properties of the sides and angles of a triangle 



Analogy. 


125 


separately, though wo cannot think of a triangle, without sides and 
angles.”— Fleming's Vocabulary of Philosophy. 

“ Method may be called, in general, the art of disposing well a series 
of many thoughts, either for the discovering truth when we are ignorant 
of it, or for proving it to others when it is already known. Thus there 
are two kinds of method , one for discovering truth, which is called analysis , 
or the method of resolution , and which may also be called the method of 
invention ; and the other for explaining it to others when we have found 
it, which is called synthesis or the method of composition, and which may 
also be called the method of doctrine."—Port Royal Logic. Part IY.; 
chap. 2. 


'37.—The root-signification of Ana-logy, is that of a 
pervading or thorough binding together , as of parts into a 
whole, and therefore also of every such part as pro¬ 
portioned to every other, or as agreeing in some respects 
with these on behalf of the general Unity,—and when men 
therefore reason by Analogy, or refer more or less clearly, 
or dimly, to Analogy as the guide of their reasoning, it 
is, because their Intellect or minding of Ends, based on 
their Instinct or minding of Conditions, or of the ratio-nal 
putting together of men and things, has always urged 
them to conceive of every part of Nature or the Universe 
as somehow or another—and in some degree or another— 
related to, and therefore the representative on some 
proportionate side or another of every other part,—and 
therefore also the patent or prominent, as the more or less 


Analogy. 






126 


The Second Idea op Man. 


possible interpreter of the latent or hidden—to be proved 
or disproved later by a sufficiently methodical analysis and 
synthesis. The Idea of Analogy, as the Pivot of the 
Idea of Intellect, is therefore simply that of the more 
positive minding of Man, considered as turning upon the 
Idea of Pro-portion , or upon that of the continuous com¬ 
parison of all the elements of the Universe as ratio-nally 
interconnected with the Individual man, and proportionally 
with each other, and with him, as the parts of one great 
whole. m 

Analogy “ Whether then the dramatic authors had a reason or not for their 

tho Pivot of £ ve ac t S) they have hit upon the right number by the inspiration of genius; 

Intellect. 

and it would he hard to persuade either the learned or the unlearned to 
repeal the law of established usage. The mysterious agency of that 
recondite spirit of analogy, which works in every thinking mind and 
every feeling soul, but especially in those whose natures are rendered 
supereminently sensitive by the study of the laws of order and beauty; 

would put its veto on the change.That mystic spirit that 

inspired the dramatic poet, unconscious of a reason.' — Smith's Divine 
, Drama of History. P. 7. 

“ Rudiger introduced the logic of analogy , so much neglected by the 
moderns, and entirely passed over by the ancients; and Walch pointed 
out the extensive application it might receive in the various branches of 
the moral and natural sciences.”— Devey's Logic. Historical Intro¬ 
duction. P. 21. 

“ The word Analogy, as the name of a mode of reasoning is generally 
taken for some kind of argument and supposed to be of an inductive 
nature, but not amounting to a complete induction. There is no word, 







Analogy. 


127 


however, which is used more loosely, or in a greater variety of senses 
than Analogy. It sometimes stands for arguments which may be 
examples of the most rigid Induction. And Bishop Whately, for instance, 
following Ferguson and other writers, defines Analogy conformably to 
its primitive acceptation, that, which was given to it by mathematicians, 
Resemblance of Relation. In this sense, when a country which has 
sent out colonies is termed the mother country, the expression is 
analogical, signifying that the colonies of a country stand in the same 
relation to her in which children stand to their parents. And if any 
inference be drawn from this resemblance of relations, as, for instance, 
that the same obedience or affection is due from colonies to the mother 
country which is due from children to a parent, this is called reasoning 
by Analogy.”— Mills' Logic. B. 2; chap. 20 ; p. 1. 

“ Again, we have the word analogy , applied alike to proportional 
reasoning in mathematics and to the presumptive reasoning of daily life. 
The meaning of analogy is, ‘ an agreement or likeness between ’ things 
in some circumstances or effects, when the things are otherwise entirely 
different; and in mathematics, an analogy is. ‘ an agreement or likeness 
between ’ two ratios in respect of the quantitative contrast between each 
antecedent and its consequent. So that, in either case, to ‘ deny the 
analogy ’ is to deny the assumed likeness of relations. Then we have 
the common expressions—‘ by parity of reasoning,’ and ‘ the cases are 
not upon a par.' Parity means equality; and being upon a par means 
being upon a level , so that here, too, the essential idea is that of likeness 
or unlikeness. Note, also, the familiar qualifications, ‘ cceteris paribus ,’ 
“ other things equal,” which are used with the implication that when all 
the remaining elements of the compared cases stand in like relations, 
the particular elements in question will stand in like relations. 

There is the notion of parallelism, too. It is an habitual practice in 
argument to draw a parallel , with the view of assuming in the one case 


128 


The Second Idea of Man. 


■what is shown in the^other. But parallel lines are those that are always « 
cqui-distant—that are like in direction ; and thus the fundamental order 
is still the same .... . . 

Once more there is the language used to express proportion. Not 
only is the process of thought by which both our simplest and most 
complex conclusions are reached, fundamentally one with that employed 
in proportional reasoning ; but its verbal expression often simulates the 
same form. As in mathematics we say, “ As A is to B. so is C to D 
so in non-quantitative reasoning we say, “As a muscle is strengthened by 
exercise, so is the rational faculty strengthened by thinking.’ Indeed, 
this sentence supplies a double illustration; for not only does each of 
the two inferences it compares exhibit the proportional form, hut the com¬ 
parison of them itself exhibits that form .”—Herbert Spencer's Principles 
vf Psychology , v. 1, part 2, chap. 8, par. 808. 

“ Since the value of an analogical argument inferring one resem¬ 
blance from other resemblances without any antecedent evidence of a 
connexion between them, depends upon the extent of ascertained re¬ 
semblance compared firstly with the amount of ascertained differen ce 
and next with the extent of the unexplored region of unascertained 
properties ; it follows that where the resemblance is very great, the as¬ 
certained difference very small, and our knowledge of the subject matter, 
tolerably extensive, the argument from analogy may approach in strength 

very near to a valid induction.No competent inquirer into 

Nature will rest satisfied with it when it is possible to obtain a complete 
induction; but will consider the analogy as a mere Guide-^osJ, pointing 
out the direction in which more rigorous investigation should be prose¬ 
cuted. 

It is in this last respect that considerations of analogy have the 
highest philosophical value. The cases in which analogical evidence 






Generalisation and Classification. 


129 


/ 

/ 


■affords in itself any very high degree of probability, are, as we have just 
observed, only those in which the resemblance is very close and extensive ; 
but there is no analogy , however faint , which may not be of the utmost 
value in suggesting experiments or observations that may lead to more 

positive conclusions. . .any 

suspicion, however slight, that sets an ingenious person at work to 
contrive an experiment, or that affords a reason for trying one experiment 
rather than another, may be of eminent service to philosophy.— Mill's 
Logic. B. B; chap. 20; p. 3. 


38.—The Idea of Generalisation and Glassification Generalisation 
are the two-fold modes of the Idea of Analogy, in and 

’ Classification. 

K correspondence with its two-fold elementary constituents, 
the Ideas of Inference and Method;—for in generalising 
we infer from the known to the unknown ; and in classify¬ 
ing we distribute methodically and as of necessity the 
materials upon which generalisation operates more freely. 

“ Generalisation is the process through which we obtain what arc Generalisation 
called general or universal notions. A general notion is nothing but'the and 


abstract notion of a circumstance in which a number of individual objects 


Classification 
as the 


Analogy. 


are found to agree, that is, to resemble each other. For so far as two Co-ordinate 
objects resemble each other, the notion we have of them is identical, and ^°^ es 
therefore, to us the objects may be considered as the same. Accordingly, 
having discovered the circumstance in which objects agree, we arrange 
them by this common circumstance into classes, to which we also usually 

give a common name.In the prosecution of this operation, 

commencing with individual objects, we generalise these into a lowest 









130 


The Second Idea of Man. 


class. Having found a number of such lowest classes, we then compare 
these again together, as we had originally compared individuals; we 
abstract their points of resemblance, and by these points generalise them 
into a higher class* The same process we perform upon these higher 
classes; and thus proceed, generalising class from classes, until we are 
at last arrested in the one highest class, that of being.”—Sir W. Hamil¬ 
ton's 35th Lecture on Metaphysics. P. 294. 

“ Generalisation is not a process of mere naming, it is also a process 
of inference. From instances which we have observed, we feel warranted 
in concluding, that what we found true in those instances, holds in all 

similar ones, past, present, and future, however numerous they may be. 

■» 

We then, by that valuable contrivance of language which enables us to 
speak of many as if they were one , record all that we have observed, 
together with all that we infer from our observations, in one concise 
expression; and have thus only one proposition , instead of an endless 
number, to remember or to communicate. The results of many observa¬ 
tions and inferences, and instructions for making innumerable inferences 
in unforeseen cases,are compressed into one short sentence.”— Mill's Logic. 
B. 2 ; chap. B ; p. 3. 

“ There is, as we have frequently remarked in this work, a classifi¬ 
cation of things which is inseparable from the fact of giving them general 
names. Every name which connotes an attribute, divides by that very 
fact all things whatever into two classes, those which have the attribute 
and those which have not; those of which the name can be predicted, 
and those of which it cannot. And the division thus made is not merely 
a division of such things as actually exist, or are known to exist, but of 
all such as may hereafter be discovered, and even of all such as can be 
imagined. 

“ On this kind of classification we have nothing to add to what has 
previously been said. The classification which requires to be discussed 


Observation and Assimilation. 131 

as a separate act of the mind, is altogether different. In the one, the 
arrangement of objects in groups, and distribution of them into compart¬ 
ments, is a mere incidental effect consequent npon the use of names given 
for another purpose, namely, that of simply expressing some of their 
qualities. In the other, the arrangement and distribution are the main 
object; and the naming is secondary to, and purposely conforms itself 
to, instead of governing that more important operation.”— Mill’s Logic. 
B. 4; chap. 7; § 1. 

“ Classification (where arrangement and distribution are the main 
object) is a contrivance for the best possible ordering of the ideas of 
objects in our mind ; for causing the ideas to accompany or succeed one 
another in such a way as shall give us the greatest command over our 
knowledge already required, and lead most directly to the acquisition of 
more. The general problem of classification, in reference to these pur¬ 
poses, may be stated as follows :—to provide that things shall be thought 
of in such groups , and those groups in such an order , as will best conduce 
to the remembrance and the ascertainment of their laws.”— Mill's Logic. 
B. 4 ; chap. 7 ; § 1. 


39.—The Co-ordinate Poles of the Idea of Generalisa¬ 
tion are the Ideas of Observation and Assimilation ;—for 
our Generalisations are in the degree, but only in the 
degree, of our mental Assimilation of observed facts, in 
such manner as to include their multiplicity under one 
and the same notion;—and since the Idea of Assimilation 
is thus also the positive pole of Generalisation, it lies 
appropriately as a mean betwixt the Ideas of Deductive 


Observation 

and 

Assimilation 





132 


The Second Idea of Man. 


Assimilation 

and 

Observation 
as the 
Co-ordinate 
Poles of 
generalisation 


Inference and Methodical Synthesis;—whilst the Idea of 
Observation, as the negative pole, lies equally appropriately 
as a mean betwixt the Idea of Methodical Analysis and 
that of the selective Inferences of Induction. 

“ The basis of all scientific explanation consists in assimilating a 
fact to some other fact or facts. It is identical with the generalizing 
process, that is, with Induction and Deduction. 

“ Our only progress from the obscure to the plain, from the mys¬ 
terious to the intelligible, is to find out resemblances among facts, to make 
different phenomena as it were fraternize. We cannot pass out of the 
phenomena themselves. We can explain a motion by comparing it with 
some other motion, a pleasure by reference to some other pleasure. We 
do not change the groundwork of our conception of things, we merely 
assimilate, classify, generalise, concentrate, or reduce to unity, a variety 
of seemingly different things .”— Bain's Logic, Part Second. Induction . 
B. 3 ; chap. 12. 

“ When we are contemplating several individuals which resemble 
each other in some part of their nature, we can (by attending to that part 
alone, and not to those points wherein they differ) assign them one com¬ 
mon name, which will express or stand for them merely as far as they all 
agree ; and which, of course, will be applicable to all or any of them 
(which process is called generalisation ); and each of these named, is 
called a common term, from its belonging to them all alike ; or a predi¬ 
cable, because it may be predicated affirmatively of them or any of them.” 
— Whately's Logic. B. 2 ; chap. 5 ; § 2. 

“ It is necessary (in order to the knowledge of the mutual relations 
of phenomena) that we should form abstract general notions. This is 
done when, comparing a number of objects, we seize on their resemblances ; 


Observation and Assimilation. 


133 


When we concentrate our attention on these points of similarity, thus 
abstracting the mind from a consideration of their differences; and when 
we give a name to our notion of that circumstance in which they all agree. 
The general notion is thus one which makes us know a quality, property, 
power, action, relation ; in short, any point of view under Which we recog - 
nise a plurality of objects as a unity. It makes us aware of a quality, a 
point of view, common to many things. It is a notion of resemblance; 
hence the reason why general names or terms, the signs of general 
notions, have been called terms of resemblance, (termini similitudinis ).”— 
Sir W. Hamilton's 34tfo Lecture on Metaphysics. P. 288. 

“ By the use of our observing faculties for the object world, and of 
self-consciousness for the mind, we not merely obtain our notions of 
things—stars, mountains, trees, men, pleasures— but also discern the 
conjunctions or connexions of things. A single conjunction excites little 
notice, but an iterated conjunction awakens our feeling of identity; we 
attend to the circumstance, and watch for the recurrence. If in the 
midst of fluctuation, some one couple of things is found always as¬ 
sociated, we state the fact to ourselves as a natural conjunction, a 
law of nature ; and the statement is an inductive proposition. A meteor 
flashing along the sky is an isolated circumstance; we term it casual or 
accidental. The recurrence of a stream of meteors year after year, in the 
same months, is a coincidence which we elevate into an induction, affirm¬ 
ing it for the future as well as for the past.”— Bain's Logic. Part 1; 
hook 8 ; p. 4. 

“ The Arts and Methods of Discovery embrace, (1) the Facts, that is, 
observation ; aDd (2) the Reasonings on Facts, namely, Deduction, In¬ 
duction, and Definition ; which are all comprehended in the one process, 

generalization. . . . 

Passing from the region of fact, we come to the region of generality. A 



Observation 

as a Mean 
betwixt 
Induction and 
Analysis. 


134 The Second Idea of Man. 

number of individual observations being supposed, the next thing is to 
discover agreements among them—to strike out identities wherever there 
are points to he identified ; these identities ending either in Notions or in 
General Principles. It may seem a work of vast labour to exhaust all 
the facts of the material and of the mental world; it is not a less labour, 
although of a different kind, to exhaust all the identities among the facts.” 
— Bain's Logic. Part Second, Appendix, p. 414. 

“ Induction is the arriving at General Propositions, by means of 
observation or Fact. 

In an Induction, there are three essentials :—(1) the result must be 
a proposition — an affirmation of concurrence or non-concurrence — as 
opposed to a Notion : (2) the Proposition must be general , or applicable 
to all cases of a given kind: (3) the method must be an appeal to obser¬ 
vation , or Fact.. 

An Inductive Proposition is based on the observation of facts. . . 

.We must commence with observation of fact, and thence 

rise to Inductive generalities, before we can proceed downwards in the 
way of Deduction.”— Bain's Logic. Part Second, book 8; p. 4. 

“ Besides the discrimination by the senses, a good observer is trained 
to avoid delusive mixtures of inference with observations. Ue is also 
indoctrinated in certain artificial rules and precautions for attaining the 
highest possible accuracy; such as the repetition and comparison of 
observations, the striking of averages, the elimination of causes of bias 
in the instruments ; to these are added certain mathematical formula of 
Probability, which contribute still farther to the certainty of observed 
facts. Still, these rules are, for the most part, peculiar to the different 
subjects. 


It is in like manner a special accompaniment of each department to 
know wliatto observe; to select from a miscellaneous group the circum- 



Observation and Assimilation. 


135 


stances in point. The on-goings of a nation are multitudinous as the 
sands of the sea shore; the politician or historian knows what to fix 
attention upon, and to record as political facts, the data of political 
science the designations applied to the power of political observation are 
appropriate knowledge, a sagacious and discriminating judgment, and 
analytical reasoning. No art or rules can impart the intellectual attri¬ 
butes thus described.”— Bain's Logic. Part 1, Introduction ; p. 37. 

“ Deduction also is a process of identification , by the force of simi- Assimilation 

larity. The new case must resemble the old, otherwise there can be no as a ^ Gan 

betwixt 

legitimate application of the law. Newton, by an inductive identification, Deduction 

detected, among transparent bodies, a conjunction between combustibility aa< ^ Synthesis. 

and high refracting power; the oils and resins bend light much more than 

water or glass. He then, by a farther stroke of identification, bethought 

himself of the diamond, the most refracting of all known substances ; the 

deductive application of the law would lead to the inference that it was 

composed of some highly combustible element; which afterwards was 

found to be the case. 

The deductive process appears under two aspects ; a principle may 
be given, and its application to facts sought for ; or a fact may be given, 
and its principle sought for. In both, the discovery is made by the force 
of Similarity. When the law of definite proportions was first promulgated, 
an unbounded range of applications lay before the chemist; which was 
the carrying out the principle deductively.”— Bain's “ Mental and Moral 
Science .” B. 1; chap. 2 ; p. 145. 

[The application of a principle to facts—or the con¬ 
necting of a fact with its principle, are evidently both 
cases of synthesis. — Author.] 

“ Simple Deduction is the extending of an inductive generalization to 
new cases. As in all enlargements of knowledge, so in this there is both 



136 


The Second Idea of Man. 


discovery and proof. The cases have first to be suggested to the mind, 
and next to be vigorously verified by the precedure suited to the case. 

Without dwelling upon the means of suggesting new applications of 
laws, let us consider the mode of proving such applications. This re¬ 
solves itself into a question of identity .”— Bain's Induction. B. 3; 
chap. 10 ; p. 97* 

[A question of identity is a question of assimilation. 

—Author.] 

“ Yet another group of words has significance. Men reason by 
similies of Jill orders, from the parable down to the illustration ; and 
similarity is constantly the alleged ground of inference, alike in necessary 
and in contingent reasonings. When geometrical figures are known to 
be similar, and the ratio of any two homologous sides is given, the values 
of all the remaining sides of the one, may be inferred from their known 
values in the other; and when the lawyer has establised his precedent, 
he goes on to argue that similarly , &c. Now as, in geometry, the 
definition of similarity, is, equality of ratios among the answering parts 
of the compared figures; it is clear that the similarity on the strength of 
which ordinary inferences are drawn, means—likeness of relations.”— 
Herbert Spencer's Principles of Psychology. Y. 2; part 6; chap. 8; 
sect. 308. 


Comparison 

and 

Contrast. 


40.—The Ideas of Comparison and Contrast again 
are the Co-ordinate Poles of the Idea of Classification, or 
that of a mental calling together —for the ancestral or 


etymological meaning of Comparison is that of a mental 


matching, pairing, or setting, and therefore also calling - 



Comparison and Contrast. 


137 


together —which matching, pairing, setting or calling- 
together cannot be effected without at the same time 
contrasting those that are thus matched, paired or classed, 
or setting them over against , or as distinctly in opposition 
to the otherwise matched, paired, and classed , or what is 
the same thing, called or named together on other grounds 
—yet in such manner as only to class or call them again 
together but as contrasted. The Idea of Comparison or 
that of a matching, pairing, or setting together is therefore 
the more positive part of the process of Classification, and 
lies thus and appropriately as a mean betwixt the Ideas 
of Inductive Inference and Synthetic Method,—whilst 
that of Contrast, or the making to stand against or in 
opposition to, as the more negative but complementary 
part, lies equally appropriately as a mean betwixt the 
Ideas of Deductive Inference and Analytic Method, 

“ In order that we may do something towards determining the nature Comparison 

and conditions of human knowledge (which I have already stated as the anc ^ Contrast 

as the 

purpose of this work), I shall have to refer to an antithesis or opposition , Co-ordinate 

which is familiar and generally recognised, and in which the distinction ^ >0 ^ es °* 

Classification* 

of the things opposed to each other is commonly considered very clear 
and plain. I shall have to attempt to make this opposition sharper and 
stronger than it is usually conceived, and yet to shew that the distinction 
is far from being so clear and definite as it is usually assumed to be: I 
shall have to point the contrast, yet shew that the things which are con¬ 
trasted cannot be separated :—I must explain that the antithesis is constant 
and essential, but yet that there is no fixed and permanent line dividing 



138 


The Second Idea op Man. 


its members. I may thus appear, in different parts of my discussion, to 
be proceeding in opposite directions, but I hope that the reader who gives 
me a patient attention will see that both steps lead to the point of view 
to which I wish to lead them. 

The antithesis or opposition of which I speak is denoted, with various 
modifications, by various pairs of terms : I shall endeavour to shew the 
connexion of these different modes of expression, and I will begin with 
that form which is the simplest and most idiomatic. 

The simplest and most idiomatic expression of the antithesis to which 
I refer is that in which we oppose to each other Things and Thoughts. 
The opposition is familiar and plain. Our thoughts are something which 
belongs to ourselves; something which takes place within us; they are 
what we think; they are actions of our minds. Things, on the contrary, 
are something different from ourselves and independent of us ; something 
which is without us ; they are; we see them, touch them, and thus know 
that they exist; but we do not make them by seeing or touching them, 
as we make our Thoughts by thinking them ; we are passive, and Things 
act upon our organs of perception.”— Whewell's History of Scientific 
Ideas. B. 1; chap. 1; sect. 1. 

[Now by the foregoing, Things and Thoughts have 
evidently been classified or called together, each apart 
from, or in opposition to, the other; and this has been 
done simply in the first place by comparing or matching, 
pairing, or setting together—Thought with Thought, and 
Thing with Thing,—but in the second place, or rather as 
a complementary accompaniment of the first, by contrasting, 
or setting Thing over against Thought, or Thought as in 
opposition to Thing.— Author.] 




Comparison and Contrast. 139 

“ Comparison is the act of carrying the mind from one object to 
another, in order to discover some relation subsisting between them. It 
is a voluntary operation of the mind, and thus differs from the perception 
or intention of relations, which does not always depend upon the will. 

The result of Comparison is knowledge, when the intellect apprehends* 
but the act is an exercise of attention voluntarily directing the energy 
of the mind to a class of objects or ideas. The theorems of mathematics 
are a series of judgments arrived at by Comparison, or viewing different 
quantities and numbers in their relations. The result of Comparison is a 
judgment.’-— Fleming's Vocabulary of Philosophy. 

“ How can the infinity of nature be brought down to the finitude of 
man ? This is done by Classification. Objects, though infinite in number, 
are not infinite in variety; they are all, in a certain sort, repetitions of 
the same common qualities, and the mind, though last in the multitude 
of particulars,—individuals, can easily grasp the classes into which their 
resembling attributes enable us to assort there. This whole process of 
Classification is a mere act of Comparison , as the following deduction will 
show.”— Sir W. Hamilton's 3Ath Lecture on Metaphysics. 

[But in the very formation of Classes it is evident 
that we contrast Class with Class, or set each over against 
every other.— Author.] 

“ Induction ia the instrument of multiplying and extending know- Comparison 

ledge; it teaches us how, from a few facts observed, to affirm a great as a ^- ean 

betwixt; 

many that have not been observed. If, from the observation of the planets induction and 
now discovered, we make an assertion respecting all that have yet to be Synthesis, 
discovered, we make the leap implied in real or inductive inference. If 
the assertion had been made when only six planets were known, actual 
observation would have been the guarantee for those six, induction for the 
remaining hundred or upwards.”— Bain's Logic. Part 2 ; book 3; 
chap. 1; p. 3. 






140 


The Second Idea of Man. 

[But any assertion whatsoever in regard to undis¬ 
covered planets must evidently be based upon some prior 
comparison, matching, pairing, or calling together of the 
still undiscovered and the already discovered; and whilst 
matching, pairing, or mentally calling together are all 
processes of Synthesis —the matching, or pairing, or 
mentally calling together of the undiscovered as one with 
the discovered—is, according to Mr. Bain, pre-eminently 
a process of Induction.— Author.] 

„ , “ The following is a deduction:— 4 All arsenic is poison ; now this 

Contrast as a ° 

Mean betwixt substance is arsenic; therefore, this substance is poison.’ i’— Bain's Logic 

Deduction and p ar j. j^st, Introduction ; p. 17. 

Analysis. 

[In matching “ all arsenic” with poison, we evidently* 
as a preliminary of the following deduction, contrast or 
set arsenic in opposition to all non-poisonous or wholesome 
substances,—and when as the next step we say “ Now 
this substance is arsenic,” and as the following, “Therefore 
this substance is poison ”—we first of all infer deductively 
from appearances or otherwise that the substance before 
us is arsenic—and next by thus also inferring it deductively 
as poison,—break it away from all the non-poisonous by 
Methodical Analysis.— Author.] 


END OF THE IDEA OF INTELLECT. 











* 






































































Plate II. 

CENTRE SECTION. 





THE IDEA OF WILL. 













The Second Idea of Man. 


PLATE II. 

CENTRAL SECTION. 


THE IDEA OF WILL. 

41.—Man wills The Family (par. 9); and wills also Spontaneity, 
the satisfaction of Appetite (par. 17); and in both cases 
spontaneously, or as from his own Free-Willing-Spirit— 
or as the outcoming of his own Self-law-giving Energies 
of Soul-Affection and Body-Sense—or that of his own 
fundamental Life-Nature ;—as distinguished from any 
Will of Obedience to alien although even higher or 
superior Will;—for such a Will; however willing—would 
nevertheless since of Obedience —be still a Will of Necessity 
(par. 5). It is for these reasons that the Idea of Spon¬ 
taneity is here determined and represented as the Primary 
or Principal Axis of the Idea of Will, and as connecting 
itself on the one hand with the energies of the Body- 
Sense, but on the other hand with those of the Soul’s 
Affections, and as rooted more positively in these. 




142 


The Second Idea of Man. 


Spontaneity as 
residing in the 
fundamental 
Life-Nature 
of Man, and 
as thence the 
primary Axis 
of his Will. 


“ Leibnitz; explains spontaneity to mean the true and real dependence 
of our actions on ourselves. Heineecius calls it the faculty of directing 
one’s aim to a certain end. It is a self-active causality.”— Fleming's 
Vocabulary of Philosophy. 

“ Spontaneity expresses the fact that the active organs may pass into 

movement, apart from the stimulus of sensation. 

. . . The impulse is not stimulation, but a certain condition of 

the nervous centres and the muscles, connected with natural vigour, 

nourishment and rest. The exuberant movements of young and active 

animals are referable to spontaneity, rather than to the excitement of 

* 

sensation.The natural 

vigour of the system, nurtured and pent up, leads to outbursts of very 
considerable energy. We see this in the daily experience of robust 
children and youth. The explosiveness of the boy or girl relieved from 
constraint is of the kind suited to any violent effort. To leap ditches, 
to throw down barriers, and displace heavy bodies, are what the system, 
in its mere spontaneity, is adequate to achieve. 

“ The vigour may be greatly increased by excitement; that is, an 
unusual flow of blood to the active organs, through what are termed 

stimulants.An access of pleasure 

is an access of vital power, shown in some of the forms of increased 
activity. ..... The pleasures of exercise, to a 

fresh and vigorous system, supplies a new stimulus. 

These various circumstances are adduced as a sufficient explanation of 
the flexibility and compass of our spontaneity.”— Bain's Mental and Moral 
Science. B. 4th ; chap. 1; pp. 891, 321. 


The Instinctive Germs of the Will. Our voluntary power, as ap¬ 
pearing in mature life, is a bundle of acquisitions. 

The hungry man, seeing food before him, puts forth his hand, lifts a 
morsel to his mouth, chews, masticates, and swallows it. The infant can 




The Race, and the Individual. 143 

do nothing of all that; there is no link of connexion established in its 
mind between the state of hunger and movements for gratifying it. A fly 
lights upon the face of a child, producing a tickling irritation ; but the 
movement for brushing it away is not within the infant’s powers. It is 
by a course of acquirement, that the local feeling of irritation in any 
part is associated with the movement of the hand towards that part. 
Such associations are necessarily very numerous ; the will is a machinery 
of detail. The acquirement must rest on certain primitive foundations ; 
these alone are to be considered at the present stage. 

One of the foundations of voluntary power is given in the Spontaneity 
of Muscular Action. 

We have already adduced the evidence for the spontaneity of the 
muscular discharge. In it we have a source of movements of all the 
active organs ; each member is disposed to pass into aotion merely through 
the stimulus of the central energy. The locomotion, the voice, the 
features, the jaws, and tongue are all exerted by turns, when their nervous 
centres are in a fresh and nourished condition. 

Still spontaneity does not amount to will. Its impulses are random 
and purposeless ; the movements of the will are select and pointed to an 
end ; spontaneity ends when the will is most wanted—that is, when the 
system is exhausted and needs refreshment.”— Bain's Mental and Moral 
Science. B. 1; chap. 4; p. 79. 

[It will be seen presently that the Spontaneity of 
Man only becomes Will when co-ordinated by Motive .— 
Authoe.] 


42.—The Co-ordinate Poles of the Idea of Spontaneity The Race of 

are the Ideas of the Race of Man , and the Individual Man ’ and 

J Thelndividual 

Man ;—-the former the positive pole, and therefore in Man. 



144 


The Second Idea of Man. 


immediate connexion with the spontaneities of Soul- 
Affection ;—the latter the negative pole, and therefore in 
immediate connexion with the spontaneities of the Body- 
Sense. 


The Race and 
Thelndividual 
as the 
Co-ordinate 
Poles of the 
Idea of 
Spontaneity. 


“ . . . . consider the hypothesis of Spontaneity , first, in re¬ 
ference to the individual, and second, in reference to the race. With 
reference to the individual, it is admitted that the development of the 
human intelligence is spontaneous inthe sense that it is the development 
of the fundamental faculties of the individual without the introduction of 
any new faculties (sans aucune introduction quelconque de facultSs 

nouvelles). This is a most important truth,.nor is it 

inconsistent with subjection to law, since every intelligence in its spon¬ 
taneous development follows the law of its own being, of which the more 
spontaneous the development the more perfeot is the fulfilment of law. 

According to this view of the doctrine of spontaneity , every human 
being is a unit, possessing individual organs, individual functions, and 
individual ends, and the spontaneous development of those organs, the 
spontaneous fulfilment of those functions, and the spontaneous pursuit 
of those ends, constitute the perfection of that being. So far M. Comte’s 
ground is unassailable. Here we have the basis of all human improve¬ 
ment, a criterion of all human institutions. Man, on the one hand, really 
advances only in proportion as he understands and developes the inherent 
powers of his own being; and, on the other hand, every social custom, 
every conventional usage, every legislative enactment, every political 
system, that does not take into account this spontaneous development of 
the human intelligence in obedience to natural law, defeats itself, and is 
itself an act of rebellion against nature and against law. 


If now we turn our attention from the individual to the race, and 
consider the hypothesis of spontaneity under this second aspect, we find 



The Race, and the Individual. 


145 


that M. Comte has still strong ground for his allegations. We see in 
human society a spontaneous development correspondent to that which is 
presented in the individual intelligence. We see it possessing corres¬ 
ponding organs, fulfilling corresponding functions, aiming at corresponding 
ends, and subject to corresponding natural laws. But notwithstanding 
this undoubted analogy, in at least one important respect, the conditions 
of the problem are changed. In the spontaneous development of individual 
intelligence, the spontaneity and intelligence are those of a distinct 
unitary being, of a separate personal existence. The organs, the functions* 
the ends, are those of an individual. But in the spontaneous development 
of the race where is the unit, the individual, the person to be found in 
whom the spontaneity resides and from whom it flows, who exercises 
organs, discharges functions, seeks ends, and obeys law? M. Comte 
speaks with just confidence of the development of humanity. There is 
such a thing as the development of humanity, a far greater and nobler 
idea than the development of the individual. But where and what is 
that humanity which is thus developed?”— William Adams's Inquiry into 
the Theories of History. Chap. 3; sect. 3 ; p. 376. 

[The extract which follows, may for the present be 
deemed a sufficient reply to Mr. Adams's concluding 
question as to ‘ Where and what is that humanity which 
is thus developed V — Author.] 

“ Now, that the Individual man is capable of perpetual, or almost 
perpetual, development, from the day of his birth to that of his death, is 
obvious of course. But we may well expect to find something more than 
this in a spiritual creature who does not stand alone, but forms a part of 
a whole world of creatures like himself. Man cannot be considered as an 
individual. He is , in reality , only man by virtue of his being a member 
of the human race. Any other animal that we know would probably not 


/ 


Motive. 


146 The Second Idea of Man. 

be very different in its nature, if brought up, from its very birth, apart 
from all its kind. A child so brought up, becomes, as instances could be 
adduced to prove, not a man in the full sense at all, but rather a beast in 
human shape; with human faculties, no doubt, hidden underneath, but 
with no hope, in this life, of ever developing those faculties into true 
humanity. If, then, the whole in this case, as in so many others, is 
prior to the parts, we may conclude that we are to look for that progress 
which is essential to a spiritual being subject to the lapse of time, not only 
in the individual, but also quite as much in the Race taken as a whole. 
We may expect to find, in the History of man, each successive age 
incorporating into itself the substance of the preceding. 

This power, whereby the present ever gathers into itself the results 
of the past, transforms the human race into a colossal man, whose life 
reaches from the creation to the day of judgment. The successive 
generations of men are days in this man’s life. The discoveries and 
inventions which characterise the different epochs of the world’s history 
are his works. The creeds and doctrines, the opinions and principles, of 
the successive ages, are his thoughts. The state of society at different 
times are his manners. He grows in knowledge, in self-control, in visible 
size, just as we do; and his education is, in the same way, and for the 
same reason, precisely similar to ours.”— The Education of the World , by 
Frederick Temple, D.D., (from Essays and Reviews). 


43.—But the Spontaneities of the Race of Man as of 
the Individual, involve with them the Idea of definite 
conditions and definite ends,—and therefore also the Idea 
of a minding of such conditions and such ends, or of a 
mind-movement as springing from the conditions, and 



Motive. 


147 


looking and tending towards the ends—or in other words 
determine the Idea of Motive as the secondary Axis of 
the Idea of Will in this Second Idea of Man, or as the 
Co-ordinate and necessary minding Axis of the Spirit of 
Spontaneity—or also in other words, determine the Idea 
of motive as the Spontaneous Free-Will's concurrent 
Will of Necessity (par. 6). 

“ The natural Spontaneity of the system may come into conflict with Motive as the 

the proper Motives to the Will. Co-ordinate 

Mind Axis of 

Spontaneity is a power all through life. The times of renewed 0 f 

vigour, after rest and nourishment, are times when the system is disposed Spontaniety. 
to active exertion, when this is refused, there ensues a conflict. The 
young, being most exuberant in activity, burst out incontinently at those 
moments, unless withheld by very powerful motives. This is one of the 
impulses that require a severe discipline, in the shape of strong counter¬ 
motives. The force of the spontaneity and the force of the counter¬ 
motives are then measured against each other, and we call the one that 
succeeds stronger having no other criterion of comparative strength. 

Two actual pains or pleasures sometimes incite in opposite ways. . . 

. . . . We judge of the stronger motive by the result. A person 

may feel the pain of indoor confinement, but may decline the disagreeable 
alternative of cold and wet. In company, we may he solicited by spec¬ 
tacle, by music, by conversation; one gains the day, and is pronounced 
the greater pleasure, or at least the stronger motive. 

One might continue, without end, to cite these conflicts of actual 
sensation or emotion, appending the uniform conclusion that the upshot 
is the test of the stronger motive. The instruction derivable from each 
observation of this kind is a fact in the character of the person, or the 



148 The Second Idea op Man. 

animal observed; we find out the preferences, or comparative suscepti¬ 
bility of different persons, or of the same person at different times. 

There are certain allowances that we can easily make in the application 
of the will as a test of strength of feeling. We should observe the 
influence of a motive under all variety of states, as to vigour, rest, 
nourishment, so as to eliminate difference in the active organs. We 
should weigh each motive against every other, and thus check our 
estimate by cross comparison; in this way, we oan establish for each 
individual a scale of preferences,* and obtain a diagnosis of emotional 
character. 

The comparison of one person with another requires an estimate to 
be made of the active disposition as a whole, or the proneness to active 
exertion generally. This may be gathered from the spontaneity, from 
the disposition to act for the sake of acting, and from all cases where we 
have an independent clue to the strength of a motive, as pleasure or pain. 
Two persons may be equally pained by an acute ailment; while the one 
bestirs himself for relief and the other remains idle. If we except a 
greater proneness in some organs than in others, as vocal exuberance 
combined with general sluggishness, the active disposition is a single 
fact, a unity or totality; the feelings are many and unequal. One 
statement will give the volitional character as a whole; the estimates of 
the motives are as numerous as our distinct sensibilities.”— Bain's Men¬ 
tal and Moral Science. B. 4; chap. 5 ; p. 354. 

“ Correctly conceived, the doctrine called Philosophical Necessity is 
simply this : that given the motives which are present to an individual 
mind, and given likewise the character and disposition of the individual, 

the manner in which he will act may be unerringly inferred; that if we 

1 

knew the person thoroughly, and knew all the inducements which are 
acting upon him, we could foretell his conduct with as much certainty as 



Motive. 


149 


we can predict any physical event. This proposition I take to be a mere 
interpretation of universal experience, a statement in words of what every 
one is internally convinced of. No one who believed that he knew 
thoroughly the circumstances of any case, and the characters of the 
different persons concerned, would hesitate to foretell how all of them 
would act. Whatever degree of doubt he may in fact feel, arises from 
the uncertainty whether he really knows the circumstances, or the 
character of some on6 or other of the persons, with the degree of accuracy 
required; but by no means from thinking that if he did know these 
things, there could be any uncertainty what the conduct would be. Nor 
does this full assurance conflict in the smallest degree with what is called 
our feeling of freedom. We do not feel ourselves the less free, because 
those to whom we are intimately known are well assured how we shall 
will to act in a particular case. We often, on the contrary, regard the 
doubt what our conduct will be, as a mark of ignorance of our character 
and sometimes even resent it as an imputation. It has never been 
admitted by the religious philosophers who advocated the free-will 
doctrine, that we must feel not free because God foreknows our actions. 
We may be free, and yet another may have reason to be perfectly certain 
what use we shall make of our freedom. It is not therefore, the doctrine 
that our volitions and actions are invariable consequents of our antece¬ 
dent states of mind, that is either contradicted by our consciousness or 
felt to be degrading. 

But the doctrine of causation, when considered as obtaining between 
our volitions and their antecedents, is almost universally conceived as 
involving more than this. Many do not believe, and very few practically 
feel, that there is nothing in causation but invariable, certain, and 
unconditional sequence. There are few to whom mere constancy of 
succession appears a sufficiently stringent bond of union for so peculiar 
a relation as that of cause and effect. Even if the reason repudiates, 


152 


The Second Idea op Man. 


Desite 

and 

Aspiration. 


44.—Now the Idea of Motive,, since it is that of a 
minding —and of a minding based on conditions and 
ultimating in ends—must be both the minding of Instinct 
and the minding of Intellect (par. 4); and therefore also 
in the case of Instinct, the Desire of Conditions, and in 
that of Intellect, the Aspiration of Ends. 

The Ideas of Desire and Aspiration are thence 
determined as the Co-ordinate Poles of the Idea of 


Desire and Aspiration. 


153 


conatus ,—the tendency towards the realisation of their end. By will is 
meant a free and deliberate, by desire a blind and fatal, tendency to act. 
Now, to express, I say, the tendency to overt action,—the quality in 
which desire and will are equally contained,—we possess no English term 
to which an exception of more or less cogency may not be taken. . . . 

. . The German is the only language I am acquainted with which is 

able to supply the term of which philosophy is in want. The expression 
Bestrebungs Vermogen , which is most nearly, though awkwardly and 
inadequately, translated by striving faculties ,—faculties of effort or 
endeavour,—is now generally employed, in the philosophy of Germany, 
as the genus comprehending desire and will. Perhaps the phrase 
phenomena of exertion is, upon the whole, the best expression to denote 
the manifestations,—and exertive faculties, the best expression to denote 
the faculties,—of will and desire. Exero , in Latin, means literally to put 
forth,— and with us, exertion and exertive are the only endurable words 
that I can find which approximate, though distantly, to the strength and 
precision of the German expression.”— Sir W. Hamilton's Lectures, 
Vol. I.; p. 185-6. 

[Query,, is not Aspiration , which is represented in 
Plate II. as the positive pole of Motive or the Mind — 
motion of Will, the word Sir W. Hamilton was striving 
after, or aspiring to ? Aspiration— emporstrebung —in 
German, has the signification of a tendency towards the 
realisation of the higher ends of will and desire, as 
towards something to be reached, and only to be reached, 
by a vigorous striving after, or a striving after even to 
panting. —Author.] 


Destiny. 


154 The Second Idea of Man. 

“ Say why was man so eminently raised 
Amid the vast creation—why ordain’d 
Through life and death to dart his piercing eye. 

With thoughts beyond the limit of his frame ;— 

But that the Omnipotent might send him forth. 

In sight of mortal and immortal powers. 

As on a boundless theatre, to run 
The great career of justice,—to exalt 
His generous aim to all diviner deeds,— 

To chase each partial purpose from his breast, 

And through the mists of passion and of sense, 

And through the tossing tide of chance and pain, 

To hold his course unfaltering, While the voice 
Of truth and virtue up the steep ascent 
Of nature calls him to his high reward,— 

The applauding smile of Heaven.” 

Pleasures of Imagination. 


45.—But again—if Man whilst thus moving, or 
moving spontaneously, moves nevertheless in conditions 
of Desire and Aspiration, and therefore also towards Ends 
which because of his very Spontaneity he is minded to 
reach—he must in so moving, be moving in a prescribed 
or destined path—a path, namely, prescribed or destined 
by the intercrossing of his Spontaneities and Motives— 
and the Idea of Destiny thence also be determined as the 
Pivot or working Centre of his Will, as that Will itself 





Destiny. 155 

was determined (par. 5) as the Pivot or Working Centre 
of his fundamental Spirit or Self-law-giving-Energy, and 
its complementary minding. 

“ If we regard the course of human development from the highest 
scientific point of view, we shall perceive that it consists in educing, more 
and more, the characteristic faculties of humanity, in comparison with 
those of animality; and especially with those which Man has in common 
with the whole organic kingdom. It is in this philosophical sense that 
the most eminent civilization must be pronounced to be fully accordant 
with nature, sinoe it is, in fact, only a more marked manifestation of the 
chief properties of our species; properties which, latent at first, can 
come into play only in that advanced state of' social life for which they 
are exclusively destined. The whole system of biological philosophy 
indicates this natural progression. We have seen how, in the brute- 
kingdom, the superiority of each race is determined by the degree of 
preponderance of the animal life over the organic. In like manner, we 
see that our social evolution is only the final term of' a progression which, 
has continued from the simplest vegetables and most insignificant animals,, 
up through the higher reptiles, to the birds and the mammifers, and still, 
on to the carnivorous animals and monkeys, the organic characteristics 
retiring, and the animal prevailing more and more, till the intellectual and 
moral tend towards the ascendency which can never be fully obtained, 
even in the highest state of human perfection that we can conceive of. 
This comparative estimate affords us the scientific view of human pro¬ 
gression, connected, as we see it is, with the whole course of animal 
advancement, of which it is itself the highest degree. The analysis of 
our social progress proves indeed, that while the radical dispositions of 
our nature are necessarily invariable, the highest of them are in a con¬ 
tinuous state of relative development, by which they rise to be preponderant 
powers of human existence, though the inversion of the primitive economy 


The Idea of 

Human 

Development, 

and Human 

Destiny 

considered a° 

synonymous. 


/ 





156 


The Second Idea of Man. 


can never be absolutely complete. We have seen that this is the essential 
character of the social organism in a statical view: but it becomes 
much more marked when we study its variations in their gradual succes¬ 
sion.’*— Comte’s Positive Philosophy , by Miss Martineau. Yol. II.; book 6; 
chap. 6 ; p; 149. 


Society 46. — And as regards the prescribed or destined paths 

Industry. °f Man,—the paths of his Destiny—there can surely be 
no dispute—for these have always been, and still are, the 
paths of his Societies and Industry;—the paths of his 
Societies, namely, as trodden more especially by the free¬ 
will Spontaneities of the Racers Soul-Affections, and tho 
Individual's Body-Sense; and the paths of his Industry 
as beaten hard by the tread of his necessities under the 
guidance of his Instinctive Desires, and Intellectual 
Aspirations. 


Society and 
Industry 
as the 
Co-ordinate 
Modes of 


“ Man, as I have already said, is born in Society, and dependent on 
it, in some of its most delightful forms, for the preservation of his infant 
being, which, without the protection of those who love him the more for 
the very helplessness that is consigned to their protection, would seem 


Man’s Destiny thrown into the world, only to suffer in it for a few hours, and, ceasing to 


suffer, to cease also to exist. 

If man be thus dependent on Society for the preservation of his 
early existence, he is not less dependent on it for the comfort and happiness 
of his existence in other years. It is to be the source of all the love 
which he feels,—of all the love which he excites,—and, therefore, of 
almost all the desires and enjoyments which he is capable of feeling- 





Society and Industry. 


157 


There is not one of his actions, which may not, directly or indirectly, 
have some relation to those among whom he lives ; and I may say even, 
that there is scarcely a moment of his existence in which the social 
affection, in some one of its forms, has not an influence on some feeling 
or resolution, some delightful remembrance of the past, some project of 
future benevolence or resentment. We are born, as I have said, in 
Society, and dependent on it for our existence; but, even if we could 
exist without Society, we should not exist as men , not even as savage men, 
—for savages, rude as their intercourse is, afe still united together by 
domestic affinities and friendships,—and have one common land, as dear 
to them, or, perhaps more dear to them, than the country of the civilized 
is to its polished inhabitants. With our immortal spirit, and with all the 
glorious capacities that are developed in Society, we should, but for the 
Society that almost gives us a different soul, be only a species of wild 
animals,—that might not yield as readily, perhaps, to the stronger 
animals around as the weak of a less noble race, but which would hold 
with them, at best, a perilous contest, miserable within the cave, and 
trembling to venture beyond it.”— Brown's Philosophy. 77th Lecture. 


“ Though the statical view of Society is the basis of sociology, 
the dynamical view is not only the more interesting of the two, but the 
more marked in its philosophical character, from its being more distin¬ 
guished from biology by the master thought of continuous progress, or 
rather of the gradual development of humanity. If I were writing a 
methodical treatise on political philosophy, it would be necessary to offer 
a preliminary analysis of the individual impulsions which make up the 
progressive force of the human race, by referring them to that instinct 
which results from the concurrence of all our natural tendencies, and 
which urges man to develope the whole of his life, physical, moral, and 
intellectual, as far as his circumstances allow. But this view is admitted 
by all enlightened philosophers ; so that I may proceed at once to consider 









158 


The Second Idea of Man. 


the continuous succession of human development, regarded in the whole 
race, as if humanity were one. For clearness, we may take advantage 
of (Jondorcet’s device of supposing a single nation to which we may refer 
all the consecutive social modifications actually witnessed among distinct 
peoples.The true general spirit of social dynamics 

then consists in conceiving of each of these consecutive social states as 

♦ 

the necessary result of the preceding, and the indispensable mover of the 
following, according to the axiom of Leibnitz,— the present is big with the 
future. In this view, the object of science is to discover the laws which 
govern this continuity, and the aggregate of which determines the course 
of human development.”— Comte's Positive Philosophy , by Miss Martineau. 
B. 6; chap. 3 ; p. 83. 

“ As to the industrial development of th9 race, it is certain that Man 
began his conquests over external nature in the fetich period. We do 
not give their doe to those primitive times when we forget that it was 
then that men learned to associate with tamed animals, and to use fire, 
and to employ mechanical forces, and even to effect some kind of commerce 
by the nascent institution of a currency. In short, the germs of almost 
all the arts of life are found iu that period. Moreover, Man’s activity 
prepared the ground for the whole subsequent evolution of the race by 
the exercise of his destructive propensities, then in their utmost strength. 
The chase not only brought separate families into association when 
nothing else could have done it, but it cleared the scene of social operations 
from the encumbrance of an inconvenient multitude of brutes. 

Another instance of the influence of fetichism on social progress is 
its occasioning the systematic preservation of serviceable animals, and 

also of vegetables.There can be no doubt that the moral 

effect of Man’s care of animals contributed largely to humanize him. 
.Such were, as nearly as we can 





Aggregation and Association. .159 

estimate, the social influences of fetichism. We mast now observe how 
it passed into polytheism. 

There can be no doubt of the direct derivation of polytheism from 
fetichism, at all times and all places. The analysis of individual 
development, and the investigation of the corresponding degrees of the 
social scale, alike disclose this constant succession. P. 202. 

The influence of polytheism on the industrial aptitudes of the human 
race will appear hereafter, when we have to consider which of the three 
forms of polytheism best regulates that province. I need only say here 
that polytheism provides a great extension and more direct application of 
the influence by which fetichism first excited and sustained human ac¬ 
tivity in its conquest of external nature. P. 220.”— Comte's Positive 
Philosophy, by Miss Martineau. B. 6; chap. 7 and 8. 

47.—Now the Idea of Society is based upon that of 
Aggregation , or upon that of the simply gathering together 
of men in some sufficient degree of proximity for the 
purposes of mutual assistance, where such assistance is 
most urgently although only occasionally required; but 
consists more positively in that of Association, or in that 
more intimate interconnexion of the constituent members of 
the Society, in which they become each and all, in greater 
or less degree —Organic Parts of One Common Whole —by 
reason of a mutually common and continuous functional 
interdependence. 

Whilst the Idea of Aggregation therefore also as the 
first step towards such an organic interconnexion lies as a 


Aggregation 

and 

Association. 







160 


The Second Idea of Man. 


Mean betwixt the Individual and his initiating or Instinctive 
Desires;—the Idea of a more and more intimate Association 
or of a greater and greater degree of well-ordered functional 
interdependence of the members of each separate Com¬ 
munity within itself, and of all the Communities of the 
Earth amongst each other, on behalf of the Common Good 
of all;—lies as a Mean betwixt the Idea of the Race of 
Man in connexion with its Soul-Affections, and that of the 
Race’s Aspirations in connexion with its Intellect—for 
since the Idea or Problem of perfected Association is the 
highest of Social Ideas or Problems, inasmuch as it 
includes or dominates all other Social and Industrial 
problems, its solution must necessarily solve all others, 
and thence also, though progressively, command more 
and more directly , the earnest solicitude of all the thinkers 
of the Race. 


“ Societies agree with individual organisms in four conspicuous 
peculiarities:— 

1. —That commencing as small aggregations, they insensibly augment 

in mass : some of them eventually reaching ten thousand times what they 
originally were. 

2. —That while at first so simple in structure as to be considered 
Idea of Society structureless, they assume in the course of their growth, a continually 

increasing complexity of structure. 

3. —That though in their early, undeveloped states, there exists in 
them scarcely any mutual dependence of parts, their parts gradually 
acquire a mutual dependence; which becomes at last so great, that the 


Aggregation 

and 

Association 
as the 
Co-ordinate 
or Negative 
and Positive 
Poles of the 


Aggregation and Association. 


161 


activity and life of each part is made possible only by the activity and 
life of the rest. 

4.—That the life and development of a Society is independent of, 
and far more prolonged than, the life and development of its component 
units ; who are severally born, grow, work, reproduce, and die, while the 
body politic composed of them survives generation after generation, 
increasing in mass, completeness of structure, and functional activity. 

These four parallelisms will appear the more significant the more we 
contemplate them. While the points specified are points in which societies 
agree with individual organisms, they are points in which individual 
organisms agree with each other, and disagree with all things else. In 
the course of its existence, every plant and animal increases in mass, in a 
way not paralleled by inorganic objects: even such inorganic objects as 
crystals, which arise by growth, show us no such definite relation between 
growth and existence as organisms do. The orderly progress from 
simplicity to complexity, displayed by bodies politic in common with all 
living bodies, is a characteristic which distinguishes living bodies from 
the inanimate bodies amid which they move. That functional dependence 
of parts, which is scarcely more manifest in animals or plants than 
nations, has no counterpart elsewhere. And in no aggregate except an 
organic, or a social one, is there a perpetual removal and replacement of 
parts, joined with a continued integrity of the whole.”— Herbert Spencer's 
Universal Progress. “ The Social Organism .” 


“ There is no way of coming at a true theory of Society, but by Aggregation 

inquiring into the nature of its component individuals. To understand as a Mean 

humanity in its combinations, it is necessary to analyse that humanity betwixt the 

Individual and 

in its elementary form—for the explanation of the compound to refer ^ • Degireg 
back to the simple. We quickly find that every phenomenon exhibited by 
an aggregation of men, originates in some quality of man himself. A 
little consideration shows us, for instance, that the very existence of 



162 


The Second Idea of Man. 


Association 
as a Mean 
betwixt the 
Eace and its 
Aspirations. 


Society, implies some natural affinity in its members for such a uuion. 

; . . . . The fact that the properties of a mass are dependent upon 

the attributes of its component parts, we see throughout nature. In the 
chemical combination of one element with another, Dalton has shown us 

that the affinity is between atom and atom.After the same 

manner, every social phenomenon must have its origin in some property 
of the individual. And just as the attractions and affinities which are 
latent in separate atoms, become visible when these atoms are approximate; 
so the forces that are dormant in the isolated man, are rendered active by 
juxtaposition with his fellows. 

This consideration, though perhaps needlessly elaborated; has an 
important bearing on our subject. It points out the path we must pursue 
in our search after a true social philosophy. It suggests the idea that the 
moral law of Society, like its other laws, originates in some attribute of 
the human being. It warns us against adopting any fundamental doctrine 
which, like that of the “ greatest happiness to the greatest number,” 
cannot be expressed without presupposing a state of aggregation. On 
the other hand it hints that the first principle of a code for the right 
ruling of humanity in its state of multitude , is to be found in humanity 
in its state of unitude— that the moral forces upon which social equilibrium 
depends, are resident in the social atom—man ; and that if we would 
understand the nature of those forces, and the laws of that equilibrium, 
we must look for them in the human constitution.”— Herbert Spencer's 
“ Social Statics." Introduction —“ The Doctrine of the Moral Sense." 
Sect. 1. 

“ Civilisation developes, to an enormous degree, the action of Man 
upon his environment: and thus, it may seem, at first, to concentrate our 
attention upon the cares of material existence, the support and improve¬ 
ment of which appear to be the chief object of most social occupations.' 
A closer examination will show, however, that this development gives Jhe 



Aggregation and Association.- 


163 


advantage to the highest human faculties , both by the security which sets 
free our attention from physical wants, and by the direct and steady 
excitement which it administers to the intellectual functions , and even the 
social feelings. In Man’s social infancy, the instincts of subsistence are 
so preponderant, that the sexual instinct itself, notwithstanding its 
primitive strength, is at first controlled by them : the domestic affections 
are then much less pronounced ; and the social affections are restricted 
to an almost imperceptible fraction of humanity, beyond which everything 
is foreign, and even hostile: and the malignant passions are certainly, 
next to the animal appetites, the mainspring of human existence. It is 
unquestionable that civilization leads us on to a further and further 
development of our noblest dispositions and our most generous feelings » 
which are the only possible basis of human association , and which receive 
by that association, a more and more special culture. 

As for the intellectual faculties,—we see, by the habitual improvidence 
which characterises savage life, how little influence reason has over men 
in that stage of existence. Those faculties are then undeveloped, or 
show some activity only in the lowest order, which relate to the exercise 
of the senses : the faculties of abstraction and combination are almost 
wholly inert, except in some transient stimulus : the rude curiosity which 
the spectacle of nature involuntarily inspires, is quite satisfied with the 
weakest attempts at theological explanation; and amusements, chiefly 
distinguished by violent muscular activity, rising at best to a manifestation 
of merely physical address, are as little favourable to the development of 
intelligence as of social qualities. The influence of civilisation in per¬ 
petually improving the intellectual faculties is even more unquestionable 
than its effect on moral relations. The development of the individual 
exhibits to us in little, both as to time and degree, the chief phases of 
social development. In both cases, the end is to subordinate the satis¬ 
faction of the personal instincts to the habitual exercise of the social 
faculties, subjecting, at the same time, all our passions to rules imposed 




164 The Second Idea of Man. 

by an ever-strengthening intelligence, with the view of identifying thd 
individual more and more with the species. In the anatomical view, we 
should say that the process is to give an influence by exercise to the 
organs of the cerebal systems, increasing in proportion to their distance 
from the vertebral column, and their nearness to the frontal region. Such 
is the ideal type which exhibits the course of human development in the 
individual, and, in a higher degree, in the species. This view enables us 
to discriminate the natural from the artificial part of the process of 
development; that part being natural which raises the human to a 
superiority over the animal attributes ; and that part being artificial by 
which any faculty is made to preponderate in proportion to its original 
weakness : and here we find the scientific explanation of that eternal 
struggle between our humanity, and our animality which has been recog¬ 
nised by all who have made Man their study, from the earliest days of 
civilization till now, and embodied in many forms before its true character 
was fixed by the positive philosophy.”— Comte's Positive Philosophy by 
Miss Martineau. V. 2 ; chap. 6 ; p. 149. 

“ The upward tendency of humanity is shown in the general esteem 
for honesty, honour, benevolence, and all the noble and heroic virtues. 
Our ideal life is far above that to which we have attained. We find it in 
our romances, our poetry, and in the biographies of our best and greatest 
men—the favourite reading of all ages. In our dramas, even when 
performed in the lowest theatres, and most perhaps in those, honesty 
self-sacrifice, fidelity, heroism, meet with general applause; while 
meanness, ‘treachery, selfishness, and cruelty, are heartily detested* 
Even in the stories and dramas of highwaymen and pirates, they must be 
made brave, generous, and in some sort heroic, to gain the sympathy of 

even the lowest public. 

Morality is wonderfully simple: Its laws are self-evident, based in the 
nature of man, and therefore as easily recognised as the most fundamen- 



Occupation and Vocation. 


165 


tal mathematical truth.A true morality, which is essentially 

a true religion, will give us a true Society. The whole spirit of the 
Bible, so seldom preached, so seldom written upon, so seldom enforced 
anywhere, is at war with all the injustice, the crimes, the cruelties, the 
false theories, and inhuman practices of our actual civilisation. What it 
teaches is justice, righteousness, or regard for the rights of all. What it 
inculcates is the brotherhood of man, which is utterly inconsistent with 
what we see around us; what it condemns is the oppression of the weak, 
the robbery of the poor, the selfishness of the idle and luxurious 

Oar social state is one of war; elass is arranged against class in 
serried ranks, and the conflict is going on. What we need is peace, the 
love of God, and the brotherhood of man ; not merely to be talked about 
on Sunday , but to become the reality of daily life, Let us consider how 
such an end may be accomplished.”— Nichol's Human Physiology . Part 
6 ; chap. 2 ; p. 404. 


48.—The Co-ordinate Poles of Industry finally, are 
the Ideas of Occupation and Vocation. The etymological 
ignification of Occupation is that, of a taking hold of, or 
seizing , or holding possession of, and as the negative pole 
of Industry lies therefore appropriately as a Mean betwixt 
the Eace and its Desires, in accordance with the behest 
“ to be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the earth, and 
subdue it; ”—whilst the fundamental signification of Vo¬ 
cation being that of a specific mental calling, lies as the 
positive pole also appropriately betwixt the Ideas of the 
Individual, and the Individual's Aspirations. 


Occupation! 

and 

Vocation. 





166 


The Second Idea of Man. 


Occupation 
and Vocation 
as the 
Co-ordinate 
Poles of 
Industry. 


“ I return, then, to the consideration of those desires, which I have 
thought it necessary to add, even after the desire of pleasure. 

The first of these, on the consideration of which I had scarcely 
entered was the love of action. To be happv, it is necessary that we be 
occupied ; and, without our thinking of the happiness which results from 
it, nature has given us a constant desire of occupation , We must exert 
our limbs, or we must exert our thought; and when we exert neither, we 
feel that languor, oi which we did not think before, but which, when it is 
felt, convinces us how admirably our desire of action is adapted for the 
prevention of this very evil of which we had not thought; as our appetites 
of hunger and thirst are given to us for the preservation of health of which 
we think as little, during the indulgence of our appetites, aB we think, 
during our occupation, of the languor which would overwhelm us if 
wholly unoccupied. 


How different would the busy scene of the world appear, if we could 
conceive that no pleasure attended the occupations, to which so great a 
majority of our race would then seem to be condemned, almost like slaves, 
that are fettered to the very instruments of their daily task! How 
different from that scene, in which, though we perceive many labouring, 
and a few at rest, we perceive, in the labourer, a pleasure of occupation 
which those who rest would often be happy to purchase from him, and 
which they do sometimes endeavour to purchase, by the same means by 
which he has acquired it, by exercises as violent and as unremitted as 
his, and which have the distinction only of being of less advantage to the 
world, than those toils by which he at once promotes his own happiness, 
and contributes to the accommodation of others! It is pleasing, thus, to 
perceive a source of enjoyment, in the very circumstance which might 
seem most hostile to happiness,—to perceive in the labour itself, of which 
the necessity is imposed on man, a consolation for the loss of that very 
freedom which it constrains .”—Browns Philosophy, Lecture G6. 



Aspiration and Vocation. 


167 


“ The languor which we feel when we cease from exertion, reminds 
us at every moment that we are not formed for inactivity,—that we have 
duties to discharge, which may become to us an amusement , if we only 
deign to avail ourselves of pleasures that are constantly in our power,— 
and without which, all amusements and exercises, that are only the 
mimicry of these very duties, would soon become as wearisome almost as 
idleness itself, of which we are so ready to feel the misery, when it is 
total idleness, unoccupied with a single pastime. It is not to fly the 
sight of ourselves, therefore, of our miseries, as Pascal says, that we busy 
ourselves even in trifles ; but because Heaven, that has formed us for 
action, has formed us therefore, necessarily to busy ourselves with some¬ 
thing, and to occupy ourselves even with trifles, rather than to be wholly 
unoccupied. In beginning to exert ourselves, or to take interest in the 
exertions of others, we have no thought of either misery to be avoided, or 
of happiness to be attained. We are already busy, before we have felt 
the happiness; we are already idle, before we have felt the misery of 
being idle. Nature does not wait for our reflections and calculations. 
She gives us, indeed, the power of reflecting and calculating, that we may 
correct the abuses of our desires ; but the desires which are necessary to 
our own well-being, and to the well-being of those aronnd us, she prompts 
without our bidding. She has formed man, with a nature that may suit 
him to every situation ;—the monarch , with those passions and powers 
which are necessary for the humblest of his subjects;—the humblest 
peasant, with the passions and powers of those who are born of kings. 
The sovereign occupying himself with those voluntary labours which he 
denominates amusement, may feel, in there very amusements, the common 
nature which he shares with those who are toiling around him, in labours, 
which they, indeed term labours , and think, perhaps, that they would be 
happy, if only they had that ease which he finds so painful, and from 
which he makes so many efforts to free himself, but which are to them, 



168 


The Second Idea op Man. 


what his amusements are to him, a source of occupation, a mode of 
shaking off that idleness, which, if general, would be inconsistent with 
the very being of society, and from which, therefore, man it warned or 
saved, by the languor that attends it. When we look at the guards, and 
the palace, and the splendour,—at all those crowds, which seem useful 
only as supplying to him more speedily everything which his wants 
require,—it is scarcely possible for us to think that a king has any 
necessity of labouring; but if we look within his breast, and see the 
constant appetite for occupation, which this ready supply of all his wants 
inflames rather than mitigates, we discover the same necessity, which we 
feel in ourselves,—the same proof, that man is formed to contribute his 
share of service to the general labours of mankind,—to be active even 
where this propensity of our nature can have no excitement from indi¬ 
vidual wants,—and to minister, in some sort, to the happiness of others, 
if he does not choose to be the willing minister of his own unhappiness.” 
— Brown's Philosophy. Lecture 66th. 


Occupation 
as a Mean 
betwixt 
The Baco and 
its Desires. 


“We must include in our view of the division of employments some¬ 
thing much more extensive than the material arrangements which the 
expression is usually understood to convey. We must include under it 
all human operations whatever, regarding not only individuals and classes, 
but also, in many ways, different nations, as participating, in a special 
mode and degree, in a vast common work, .the gradual development of 
which connects the fellow-labourers with the whole series of their 
predecessors, and even with their successors. This is what is meant 
when we speak of the Race being bound up together by the very distribu¬ 
tion of their occupations; and it is this distribution which causes the 
extent and growing complexity of the social organism, which thus appears 
as comprising the whole of the human race. Man can hardly exist in a 
solitary state : the family can exist in isolation, because it can divide its 
employments and provide for its wants in a rough kind of way : a spon- 


Occupation and Vocation. 


169 


taneous approximation of families is incessantly exposed to temporary 
rupture, occasioned by the most trifling incidents. But when a regular 
division of employments has spread through any society, the social state 
begins to acquire a consistency and stability which place it out of danger 
from particular divergencies. The habit of partial co-operation convinces 
each family of its close dependence on the rest, and at the same time, of 
its own importance, each one being then justified in regarding itself as 
fulfilling a real public function, more or less indispensable to the general 
economy, but inseparable from the system as a whole. In this view the 
social organization tends more and more to rest on an exact estimate of 
individual diversities, by so distributing employments as to appoint each 
one to the destination he is most Jit for, from his own nature (which, 
however, is seldom very distinctly marked) from his education and posi¬ 
tion, and, in short, from all his qualifications; so that all individual 
organizations, even the most vicious and imperfect (short of monstrosity), 
may be finally made use of for the general good. Such is, at least, the 
social type, wdich we conceive of as the limit of the existing social order, 
and to which we may be for ever approximating, though without the hope 
of ever attaining it, and it is, in faot, a reproduction, with a large exten¬ 
sion, of the domestic organism, with less power, in proportion to its extent, 
of appointing a due destination to every member: so that the social 
discipline must always be more artificial, and therefore more imperfect, 
than the domestic, which nature herself ordains and administers.”— 

Comte's Pos. Philosophy by Miss Martineau. B. 6; chap. 4; p. 142. 

“ There remains the mental attitude under a gradually approaching Vocation as a 

end, a condition of suspense, termed Pursuit and Plot-interest. Mean betwixt 

the Individual 

In working to some end, as the ascent of a mountain, or in watching an ^ ^. g 
any consummation drawing near, as a race, we are in a peculiar state of Aspirations, 
arrested attention, which, as an agreeable effect, is often desired for 
itself. 




170 


The Second Idea of Man. 



On the Physical side, the situation, of pursuit is marked by (1) the 
intent occupation of some one of the senses upon an objeot, and (2) the 
general attitude or activity harmonizing with this ; there being, on the 
whole, an energetic muscular strain. 

When the pursuit is something visible, we are ‘ all eye,” as in 
witnessing a contest; if the end is indicated by sound, as in listening to 
a narrative, we are all ear. If we are spectators or listeners merely, the 
general attitude shows muscular tension; if we are agents, we are 
sustained in our activity by the approach of the end. 

On the Mental side, Pursuit supposes (1) a motive in the interest of 
an end , heightened by its steady approach : (2) the state of engrossment 
in object regards, with the remission of subject regards. 

Some end is needed to stimulate the voluntary energies ; and, by the 
Law of Self-conservation, the gradual approach towards the cosummating 
of the end heightens the energies, and intensifies the pursuit. 

Now, all muscular objection is objective; it throws us upon the objeot 
attitude, and takes us out of the subject attitude. Whatever promotes 
muscular exertion, both as to the intensity of the strain, and the number 
and the importance of the muscles engaged, renders us objective in our 
regards, and withdraws us from the subject side. More especially are we 
put in the object position by the energetic action of the external senses, 
so extensively and closely allied with the cerebral activity. Hence, 
whatever keeps up an intent and unremitted muscular strain, involving 
the higher senses, is an occasion of extreme objectivity ; and this is the 
essential character of pursuit and plot-interest. 

The value of the situation is relative to the circumstance that we are 
apt to be too much thrown upon the subject consciousness; which, 
although essential to enjoyment (for perfect objectivity is perfect indif¬ 
ference) is also the condition of our being alive to suffering, and of our 
dwelling upon our pleasures till they exhaust us and pass into the pains 



Aspiration and Vocation. 


171 


<of ennui. Subjectivity is apparently more costly to the nervous system ; 
tlie objective attitude, if not unduly strained, can be longest endured. As 
far as actual pleasure is concerned, it is time lost; but an unremitted 
pleasurable consciousness is beyond human nature ; tracts of objective 
indifference seem as necessary to enduring life, as the total cessation of 
consciousness for one-third of our time. These objective tracts are found 
in our periods of activity, and especially the activity of the bodily organs ; 
but they occur most advantageously when the activity is bringing us near 
to an interesting goal of pursuit. 

It is the nature of the waking mind to alternate from object to subject 
states, the one giving as it were a refreshing variety to the other. A 
highly exciting stimulus, as a stage performance keeps us in the objective 
attitude, but not in unbroken persistence or perfect purity ; were it not 
for our frequent lapses into subjectivity, we should slip .out of the primary 
motive, and submerge the whole of the enjoyment. The transitions are 
performed with great rapidity ; the same attitude may not last above two 
or three seconds ; while, the longer we are kept in the object strain, the 
sweeter is the relapse to subject consciousness, supposing it to be 
pleasurable.”— Bain's Mental and Moral Science. B. 3 ; chap. 9 ; p. 268* 

[The preceding remarks upon Pursuit and Plot- 
interest as well as Alternation in connexion with Industrial 
occupations, follow so much in the wake of Charles 
Fourier’s Theory of Attractive Industry, as to necessitate, 
some reference to it at this place, even independently 
of its claim to mention in connexion with the doctrine of 
Industrial Occupation, as in truth the Spirit-Mind Voca¬ 
tion or calling of Man, or the Desire and Aspiration of 
the Indivividual as of the Race— Author.] 





172 


The Second Idea of Man. 


“ Fourier analyses the various passions of man, which he estimates 
at twelve, and calculates the exact number of characters their various 
combinations produce. The problem that is then presented for solution is, 
in what manner each individual man may fully gratify all his tastes and 
appetites, without injury to himself, and with direct benefit to the 
community. The society in which such a line of conduct becomes 

possible, will be the society of the future (p. 535). 

In it, all labour is purely voluntary . . . , it has indeed, 

become so attractive, that it is pursued with far greater eagerness than 
any field sports or than any game with us. It is carried on through the 
means of Series and Groups. A Series is composed of a number of 
associates of similar tastes; it undertakes only one particular form of 
labour. It is constituted of a number of G: v .ps, each group applying 
itself to one special branch or sub-division of the work of the series. 
There are generally seven or nine persons in each group, and not 
less than seven or nine groups to each series. The number of series 
in a Phalanx is, of course, very considerable, at least one hundred and 
thirty-five, for every employment is carried on by its own special series. 
Each Harmonian is a member of a great variety, making his selection 
according to his tastes. 

It is found that in this manner an eager rivalry is excited between 
the members of each group, between the various groups in each series, 
and between the corresponding series in neighbouring phalanxes. Labour 
when stimulated in this manner, becomes a source of the keenest pleasure ; 
but even thus, it cannot be continued for too long without fatigue. 
Hence, every hour and a-half, or two hours, the Harmonian changes his 
employment. If he has been engaged in the workshop, he proceeds into 
the fields, or to the garden. If he is tired with out-of-door, or manual 
labour, he finds recreation in the library. He is rarely idle, yet he is 
never conscious that he is at work. However he is employed, it is a 
source of pleasure to him r and for that reason only does he undertake it. 


Occupation and Vocation. i?3 

It follows from this, that all labour engaged in is conducted by men who 
are passionately attracted to it; and it may easily be imagined how much 
more earnest and skilfai it is than any to which we are usually accus¬ 
tomed. The rich and the noble are no less eagerly attracted by it, and 
the happiest consequences arise from their working side by side with 
their fellow-creatures.” — The Fortnightly Review, November, 1872; 
Article “ Fourier,” p. 540. 

[To sum up. Man's Destiny is one of Society and 
Industry, but also of a Society based upon an Industry 
winch may, according to the conditions in which it is 
placed, be either as the rule repugnant ,' and from the 
necessity of which' Ihen would, if possible, escape—or as 
the rule attractive , and in such manner attractive, as to be 
pursued everywhere, at all times and all cases, voluntajfy 
and even ardently—and the question of the day, therefore, 
the question which includes all others, the question to 
which the sequel of this work must, to be of any value, 
afford some answer, is simply this :—Can Industry be 
placed in such conditions relatively to all men and women 
workers, as to become always and everywhere attractive , 
—in such manner namely attractive—that there shall be 
neither enforced labour, nor idler, nor sham worker,— 
nor yet pauper,—that fungus of an ill-conditioned In¬ 
dustrial state ?— Author.] 

END OF THE IDEA OF WILL 
AND OF 


THE FIRST PART. 
































































































































. 


























































APPENDIX, 


OR 

PLATE III. (PROVISIONAL) 

WITH 

INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 


Plate III. is not yet completed, the intention being 
to complete it as a Second Part of the work, or accom* 
panied by an Explanatory Text on the same model as 
that of Plates I. and II. 






178 


Introductory. 


—and through. Domesticity, to the development of Man 
throughout his generations, or to his Social and Indus¬ 
trial Education; whilst both Love and Domesticity are 
represented as dependent for the attainment of their 
ends, and thence also for the attainment of that Social 
and Industrial Virtue , which is the ultimate aim of the 
Spirit of Affection, upon the intervention of the political 
mindings of Friendship and Ambition;—upon that of 
Friendship, for the building up of the Social and Indus¬ 
trial Communities, which are necessary to the collective 
well-being of Man, and upon that of Ambition for their 
adequate Government. 

But in order to the building up of such Communities, 
and in order to their adequate Government, there must 
be both Knoivledge and Wisdom; —the Knowledge and 
Wisdom, namely, which are the outgrowths of the Per¬ 
ceptions and Conceptions of Instinct (Left hand Section 
of Plate) ;—and which Knowledge and Wisdom must 
moreover both take body as Common-Sense Ideas, and as 
Words of Thought leading to Truth ;—or to the Trust of 
Faith, where Faith alone can show the way, but to a 
Faith conjoined with the Scepticism of Doubt and 
Inquiry, wherever any opening for these presents itself, 
for what Theoretical Knowledge to Empiricism, or the 
Wisdom of Religion to the Wisdom of Law, that also is 
the Truth of Faith to the Truth of Scepticism. Theory, 


Introductory. 


179 


Religion, and Faith are all, namely, evidences of that 
Free-Will Spirit, which urges Man even blindly forward 
on the path he must travel, but on which path he must 
also for ever stumble unless he carries with him the 
torch of Empiricism, that of the recognition of Law, and 
that of Scepticism, or of that Doubt, which is the neces¬ 
sary precursor of Inquiry. 

Yea, Doubt and Inquiry; these are the two hand¬ 
maidens of all sufficient Truth, and therefore also of all 
sufficient Faith, and of all sufficient Religion—for the 
sum and substance of Religion, consists simply in the 
heart-felt acknowledgment of an invisible omnipotent 
Spirit or Self-law-giving-Energy as working in Man, and 
in the visible and tangible Matter of his surroundings, 
and in the consequent application of his Intellect (Right 
hand Section of Plate), by means of Science and 
Philosophy, of Art and of Literature, under the guidance of 
the Inspirations and Logic of his Genius, to the finding 
out of the how and the what of the manner of these 
workings, in order to the completest of obedience to the 
will of the Divine, when thus recognised. 

What Plate III., therefore, finally says, as exhibited 
by its Central Section, or the Final Idea of Will, is 
this :—It says that man wills his Social and Industrial 
Unity, and that in so willing, he wills the Social an^ 



180 


Introductory. 


Industrial combinations and consequent Virtue, which 
are the tendencies of Affection. 

It says also that Mail wills Social and Industrial 
Variety, and that in so willing, he wills also the Social 
and Industrial Talent, and the Purity, the Refinement, 
the Harmony, and the Beauty, which are the joint 
tendencies of Sense. 

And it says that Man wills his Social and Industrial 
Haziness, and that in so willing, he wills to know the 
Truth in regard to all Beings and Things, and nothing 
but the Truth, and therefore also wills that Scepticism, 
which following in the wake of Faith, qualifies the 
ardour of first impressions, and progressively enlightens. 

And it says finally, that Man wills not only 
Happiness, but wills moreover Social and Industrial 
Perfection, and that in so willing, he wills the full 
exercise of his Genius, and as the ripe f’ fits of its 
Inspiration and Logic, an ultimate Destiny of Social and 
Industrial Good. 

The Plate says all this, Header, and much more, and 
not of itself, but simply as the mouthpiece of the fulness 
of the heart of man, for it is out of the fulness of the 
heart that the mouth speaketh, and Man has always thus 
spoken, the Plate has done nought beyond systematising 
his words. 


GENERAL INDEX 

--— 


ABBREVIATIONS. 


Appx., Appendix. 
Par., Paragraph, 
p.. Page. 

U. 8., Upper Section. 


■<#&> 


A BSOLUTE, (The,) Appx., Plate iii. 
Final Intellect, C S. 

Accord, Appx - , Plate iii., Final Will, C.S. 
Affection, (Soul-Affection,) Plate i., Par. 
2, p.4. 

Aggregation, Plate ii., C. S. Par. 47, 
p, 159. 

Administration, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Affection, R. H. S. 

Algebra, Plate iii-, Appx. Final Intel¬ 
lect, C. S. 

Ambition, Plate ii., U, S„ Par. 12, p. 41. 
Analogy, Plate ii., R. H. S. Par. '61, p. 

"125. 

Analysis, Plate ii., R. H. S. Par. 3G, p. 

122 . 

Animal-Life, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Intellect, U. S. 

Appetite, Plate ii., L. S. Par. l7, p. 50. 
Apprehension, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Instinct, C. S. 

Art, Appx., Plate iii. Final Intellect, L, 
H S 

Aspiration, Plate ii., C. S. Par. 44, p. 122. 
Assimilation, Plate ii., R. H. S. Par. 
30, p. 131, 

Association, Plate ii., C. S, Par. 47, p. 
159. 

Astronomy, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
tellect, L. S. 

Attention, Plate ii., L, H. S. Par. 32, p. 
108. 

Attraction, Appx., Plate iii, Final Will, 
0. S. 

Attribute, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct, U. S. 

Axiom, Appx., Plate iii. Final Instinct, 
L. H. S. 

T)EAUTY, Appx., Plate iii. Final Sense, 
R. H- S. 

Being, Appx., Plate iii. Final Intellect, 
L. S. 

Belief, Plate ii., L. H. S. Par 131, p. 106. 

RAPACITY, Appx;, Plate iii. Final 
^ Instinct, L. H. S. 

Cause, Appx., Plate iii. Final Instinct, 
U. S, 


L. 8., Lower Section. 

L. H. S., Left Hand Section. 
R. H. S., Right Hand Section. 
C. S., Centre Section, 


Character, Appx,, Plate iii. Final Will, 
L. S. 

Charity, Plate ii,, U. S. Par. 15, p. 53. 

Chemistry, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
tellect, L. S. 

Classification, Plate ii,, R. H. S. Par. 3 8 
p. 129. 

Common-Sense, Plate ii., R. H. S. Par. 
28, p. 94. 

Community, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Affection, L. H. S. 

Community (Industrial), Appx., Plate iii. 
Final Affection, L. H. S. 

Community (Social), Appx. Plate iii. 
Final Affection, L. H. S. 

Companionship, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Affection, L. H. S. 

Comparison, Plate, ii., R. H, S. Par. 40, 
p. 136, 

Comprehension, Appx., Plate iiii Final 
Instinct, C. S. 

Conception, Plate ii., L. II. S. Par. 26, 
p. 89. 

Concord, Appx., Plate iii. Final Will 
R.H.S. 

Consanguinity; Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Affection. C. S. 

Consciousness, Plate ii. L. H. S. Par. 
25. p. 85. 

Constitution, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Will. L. S. 

Contemplation, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
hrtelleet. R. H. S. 

Contentment, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Will. L. H.S. 

Continuity Appx., Plate iii. Final 

Affection. U. S. 

Contrast, App*.,, Plate ii. R. H. S. 
Par. 40, p. 136. 

Co-operation, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Affection. L. H. S. 

Cosmogony, Appx., Plate iii. Final 

Intellect. L. S. 

Cosmology, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
tellect. L. S. 


1QECISION, Appx., Plate iii. C.S. 













General Index. 


Deduction, Plate ii., L. H. S. Par. 34, 
p.114. 

Deliberation. Appx., Plate iii. C. S. 
Desire, Plate iiT, C. S. Par. 44., p. 152. 
Destiny, Plate ii., C. S. Par. 45., p. 154. 
Differentiation, Plate iii., Appx., L. H. S. 
Pinal Intellect. 

Discovery, Plate iii.-, Appx., L. S. Final 
Instinct. 

Disposition, Plate, iii., Appx., L. S. 
Final Will. 

Domesticity, Plate ii., U. S. Par. 10-, 
p. 35. 

Doubt, Plate iii., Appx., C. S. Final 
Instinct. 

Dynamics, Plate iii., App., L. S. Final 
Intellect. 

E DUCATION, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Affection. L. S, 

Education, (Industrial,) Appx,, Plate iii., 
Final Affection. L. S. 

Education,(Social,) Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Affection, L. S. 

Effect, Plate iii., Appx., U. S. Final 
Instinct. 

Embryology,, Plate iii., Appx., U. S. 
Final Intellect. 

Emotion. Plate ii., L. S. Par. 22, p. 75. 
Empiricism, Plate iii., Appx., L. S, 
Final Instinct. 

Emulation, Plate iii., Appx., C. S. Final 
Will. 

Enthusiasm, Plate iii,, Appx., C, S. 
Final Will. 

Equanimity, Plate iii., Appx., L. H. S. 
Final Will. 

Essence, Plate iii., Appx., U. S, Final 
Instinct. 

Eternity, Plate i, Par, 7, p. 24. 

Ethics, Apnx. Plate iii. Final Affection. 
L. S. 

Existence, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct, U. S, 

Experience, Plate iii., Appx., L. S. Final 
Instinct. 

Experiment, Plate iii,, Appx., L. S 
Final Instinct. 

"CiAITH, Appx., Plate iii. Final In- 
A- stinct. C. S. 

Family (The), Plate ii. U. S. Par. 9, 
p. 33. 

Feeling, Plate ii. L. S. Par. 22, p. 75. 
Form, Appx., Plate ii. Final Instinct. 
C. S. 

Freedom (Will-Freedom), Plate i. Par. 
6. P-21. 

Friendship, Plate ii. U. S. Par. 12, p. 
41. 

GENERALISATION, Plata ii. R.H. S. 

V3T par. 28, p. 129. 

Genius, Appx., Plate iii. Final Intellect. 
C. S. 

Genus, Appx., Plate iii. Final Intellect. 
U. S. 

Geology, Appx., Plate iii. Final Intellect. 
L. S. 

Geometry, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
tellect. C. S. 


Godliness, Appx., Plate iii. Final Will. 
U. S. 

God-Man, Appx., Plate iii. Final Will. 
U. S . 

Good, Appx., Plate iii. Final Will. C. S. 
Good (Industrial), Plate iii. Final Will. 
C. S. 

Good (Social), Appx., Plate iii. Fina 1 
Will. C. S. 

Good-Will, Plate ii. U. S. Par. 15, p. 
53. 

Government, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Affection. R. H. S. 

Government (Industrial), Appx., Plate 
iii. Final Affection. 

Government (Social), Appx., Plate ii ; . 
Final Affection. 

TTAPPINESS, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
AA. will. L. H. S. 

Happiness (Industrial), Appx., Plate iii. 

Final Will. L. H. S. 

Happiness (Social), Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Will. L. H.S. 

Harmony, Appx., Plate iii. Final Sense. 
L. H. S. 

Hearing, Plate ii. L. S. Par. 20, p. 58. 
Humanity, Plate ii. U. S. Par. 13, 
p. 44. 

Hypothesis, Appx , Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct. R. H. S. 

TDEA, Appx., Plate iii. Final Instinct. 
A- L. H. S. 

Idealism, Appx., Plate iii: Final Instinct. 
L. H.S. 

Impressibility, Plate ii„ L. S. Par. 23, 
p. 79. 

Incorporation, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Affection, C. S. 

Individual (The), Plate ii., C. S. Par. 42 
p. 143. 

Induction, Plate ii., R. H. S. Par. 34. n. 

114. ’ * 

Industry, Plate iii., C. S. Par. 46, p. 156 
Inference, Plate ii., R. H. S. Par. 33, p' 

Inorganic (The), Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Intellect, L. H. S. 

Inquiry, Appx., Plate iii. Final Instinct, 
C. S, 

Inspiration, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
tellect, C. S. 

Instinct, Plate 1. Par. 4, p. 12. 
Integration, Appx. Plate iii. Final In¬ 
tellect, R. H. S. 

Intellect, Plate 1. Par. 4, p. 12. 
Intuition, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct, L. H. S. 

Invention, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct, L. S. 

JUDGMENT, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
^ Instinct, C. S. 

J7"N0WLEDGE, Appx,, Plate iii. Final 
AA- Instinct, L. S. 


L AW, Appx., Plate iii. Final Instinct. 
U. S. 



General Index 


Life, Appx., Plate iii. Final Intellect, 
U. S. 

Literature, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 

tellect. R. H. S. ' 

Logic, Appx, Plate iii. Final Affection, 
C. S.. 

Love, Plate ii., U. S. Par. 10, p. 35., p. 

35. 

1\TAGNANIMITY, Appx., Plate iii. 

±y± Fnal Will, R. H. S. 

Man-God, Appx., Plate iii. Final Affec¬ 
tion, U. S. 

Man (Industrial), Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Will, U. S. 

Manliness, Appx., Plate iii. Final Will, 
U. S. 

Man (Social), Appx., Plate iii. Final Will, 
U. S. 

Marriage, Appx., Plate iii. Final Affec¬ 
tion, U. S. 

Marriage (Industrial), Appx., Plate iii. 
Final Affection, U. S. 

Marriage (Social), Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Affection, U. S. 

Materialism, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Instinct, U. S. 

Mathematics, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
intellect, C. S. 

Matter, Appx., Plate iii. Final Instinct, 
L. S. 

Maxim, Appx., Plate iii, Final Instinct, 
L. H. S. 

Mechanics, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
tellect, L. S. 

Meditation Appx., Plate iii. Final In- 
sti’nct, R. H. S. 

Memory, Plate ii.,L. H. S. Par: 30, p. 101. 

Metaphysics, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Intellect, U. S. 

Method, Plate ii., R. H. S. Par. 35, p. 
119. 

Mind, Plate i. Par. 3, p. 8. 

Morphology, Appx., Plate iii. Final Will, 
C. S. 

Motion, Appx., Plate iii. Final Intellect, 
U. S. 

Motive, Plate ii., C. S. Par. 3, p. 8. 

Mystery, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct, C. S. 

■\[AME, Appx*, Plate iii. Final In- 

^ stinct, R. H. S. 

Nature, Appx., Plate iii. Final Intellect, 
L. S. 

Necessity (Will of), Plate i. Par. 6, p. 21. 

Notion, Appx., Plate iii. Final Instinct, 
R. H. 8. 

Not-Self, Appx., Plate iii. Final Will, 
L. S. 

O BJECT, Appx , Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct. U. S. 

Observation, Plate ii. R. H.S. Par. 39, 
p. 131. 

Occupation, Plate ii. C. S. Par. 48, 
p. 165. 

(Economics, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Affection. L. S. 

Ontology, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
tellect. U. S. 


Opinion, Plate ii. L. H. S. Par. 31 
p. 105. 

Organic (The), Plate iii. Final Intellect. 
R. H. S. 

pARTY-SPIRIT, Plate ii. U. 8. 

Par. 16, p. 56. 

Patriotism, Plate ii. U. S. Par. 14, 
p. 48. 

Perception, Plate ii. L. H. S. Par. 26, 
p. 89. 

Perfection, Appx., Plate iii. Final Will. 
R.H. S. 

Perfection (Industrial), Appx,, Plate iii. 
Final Will. R, H. 8. 

Perfection (Social), Appx., Plate iii. 
Final Will. R. H. S. 

Personality, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Win. L. s. 

Philanthropy, Plate iii. U. S. Par. 14, 
p. 48. 

Philosophy, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
tellect. U. S. 

Physics, Appx., Plate iii. Final Intellect. 
L. S. 

Physiology, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
tellect* U. S. 

Place, Plate i Par. 8, p. 27. 

Poetry, Appx;, Plate iii. Final Intellect. 
R. H. S. 

Politics, Plate ii. U* S. Par. 11, p. 28. 

Principles, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct. L. H. S. 

Problem, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct. R. H. S. 

Progress, Appx., Plate iii. Final Will. 
R. H. 8. 

Property, Appx., Plate iii. Final In- 
stinct. I).S. 

Proposition, Appx.., Plate iii. Final 

Instinct. R. H; St 

Prose, Appx., Plate iii- Final Instinct, 
R. H. S. 

Psychology, Appx., Plate iii* Final In¬ 
tellect. U. S. 

Public-spirit, Plate ii. U. S. Par. 16, 
p. 54. 

Puiity, Appx., Plate iff. Final Sense 
U. S. 

Q UALITY, Appx., Plate iii. Final 

Instinct, L. 8. 

Quantity, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct, L. S. 

T> ACE (The), Plate ii., C. S. Par. 42, 
p, 143. 

Realism, Appx., Plate iii Final Instinct, 
L. H. S. 

Reason, Plate ii., L. H. S. Par. 29, p. 
98. 

Refinement, Appx.. Plate iii. Final 

&ense, L. S. 

Reflection, Plate ii., L. H. S. Par. 27, 
p. 93. 

Relative (The), Appx., Plate iii. Final 

Intellect, U. S. 

Religion, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct, U. 8. 





General Index. 


Retention, Plate ii., L. H. S. Par. 32, 

p. 108. 

S AGACITY, Appx., Flate iii., Final 
Instinct, L. H. S. 

Scepticism, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct, C. S. 

Science, Appx., Plate iii. Final Intellect, 
L. S. 

Self, Appx. Plate iii< Final Will, L. S 
Sensation, Plate iii., L. S. Par. 19. p.64. 
Sense (Body-Sense), Platei. Par. 2, p. 4. 
Sensibility, Plate ii., Appx:, L: S: Par. 
24, p. 82. 

Sensitivity, P.ate iii., S. Par. 24, p*, 
82: 

Sex> Appx., Plate iiit Final Affection, 

u.- S 

Sight, Plate ii., R. H. S. Par. 20, p. 18. 
Smell, Plate ii., L. S. Par. 18, p. 62. 
Society, Plate ii., C. S. Par. 46, p. 156. 
Space, Plate i. Par. 8, p. 27. 

Species, Appx. Plate iii. Final Intellect, 
U. S. 

Speculation, Plate ii.; L. H. S Par. 30, 

p. 101. 

Spirit, Plate 1. Par. 1, p. 3. 

Spiritualism, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct. u; S . 

Spontaneity, Plate ii., C. S. Par. 41, p. 
Statesmanship, Appx;, Plate iii. Final 
Affection, R. H. S. 

Statics, Appx., Plate iii. Final Intellect, 
L. S. 

Subject, Appx., Plate iii. Final Instinct, 
U. S. 

Substance, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
stinct. 

Susceptibility, Plate ii., L. S, Par. 23, 
p. 79. 

Symbolism, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
tellect • 

Symmetry, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
tellect; 

Synthesis, Plate ii., R: H. S. Par: 36, p. 

122 . 

Talent, Appx., Plate iii. Final Sense, 
C. S- 


Taste. Plate ii., L. S. Par. 18, p. 62. 
Teleology, Appx., Plate iii. Final In¬ 
tellect, U. S. 

Theorem, Appx., Plate iii. Final Instinct, 
R H.S. 

Thing, Appx., Plate iii. Final Intellect, 
L. S. 

Thought, Plate ii, L. H. S- Par. 28, p. 
94. 

Time, Plate i. Par. 7, p; 24. 

Touch, Plate ii., L, S Par. 21, p. 71* 
Trust, Appx., Plate iii. Final Instinct, 
C. S. 

Truth, Appx., Plate iii. Final Instinct, 
C- S. 

TTNANIMITY, Appx-, Plate iii* Final 
U Will. C. S. 

Understanding, Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Instinct. C. S. 

Unity, Appx., Plate iii. Final Will. U. S. 
Unity (Industrial), Appx., Plate iii. 
Final Will- U. S. 

Unity (Social), Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Will. U. S. 

Universe (The), Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Intellect* C* S 

TrARIETY, Appx., Plate iii; Final 
v Will. L. S. 

Variety (Industrial), Appx., Plate iii. 
Final Will. L- S. 

Variety (Social), Appx;, Plate iii. Final 
Will. L S- 

Vegetal-Life, Appx;, Plate iii- Final 
Intellect. U. S. 

Virtue, Appx*, Plate iii. Final Affection. 
C. S. 

Virtue (Industrial), Appx:, Plate iii. 

Final Affection. (). S. 

Virtue (Social), Appx., Plate iii. Final 
Affection. C. S. 

Vocation, Plate ii. C- S. Par. 48, p. 65. 
Will, Plate i. Par: 5, p ; 18. 

Wisdom, Appx*., Plate iii; Final Instinct, 
U. S. 

Word, Appx., Plate iii. Final Instinct, 
R. H. S. 



CORRECTIONS. 


1. —The words Intercourse and Sociability must be substituted for 
those of Aggregation and Association , actually represented as the negative 

and positive Poles of the Idea of Society in Plate II-and Aggregation 

and Association must themselves be transposed to their correct positions, 
as the negative and positive Poles of the Idea of Social Unity in PI. III. 

2. —The Ideas of Arithmetic and Language must be substituted for 

those of Differentiation and Integration , actually placed as the Secondary 
Axes of the Ideas of Analysis and Synthesis, PI. III. ;-and Differen¬ 

tiation and Integration must themselves displace the words Accord and 
Concord of the Idea of Unanimity , PI. III. 


NOTA BENE. 


Plate III. will shoitly be completed, when the reason of these cor¬ 
rections will appear more clearly, but my readers will meanwhile be 
pleased to bear in mind, that:— 

Plate I. is simply an Illustrative Diagram of the celebrated apothegm, 
“ Know Thyself,” and images more especially the Idea of Will as 
central or pivotal in such knowledge ; that 

Plate II. is simply illustrative of that same Will, as willing a Destiny of 
Society and Industry —but instinctively or indefinitely,—that is,— 
without any sufficient conception as to the true ordering of such 
Society and Industry on behalf of Man’s Good; whereas 

Plate III., when completed, will represent the same Will as developed into 
the willing of a Society and Industry of definite or intellectual con¬ 
ception and construction ; a state of Society and Industry, that is, 
based upon the Idea of Attraction as the fundamental Law of the 
Universe, and which may be made available in the case of Society 
and Industry on behalf of Man’s Good by an adequately corresponding 
Social and Industrial Organisation, 























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